Harry Potter and the Fulfilling of Destiny
by WhiteVanillaFlames
Summary: How different life would be if Remus Lupin intercepted Dumbledore before Harry was banished to Privet Drive? If Harry grew up in the wizarding society instead, but no one knew that he'd survived the Killing Curse? If he could live as a normal boy? HIATUS
1. A Surrogate Father

**Harry Potter _and the_ Fulfilling _of_ Destiny**, Chapter 1: A Surrogate Father.

**Summary: **How different would things be if Remus Lupin intercepted Dumbledore before Harry was banished to Privet Drive? If Harry grew up in the wizarding society instead, but no one knew that he had survived the Killing Curse? If he had lived as—drumroll, please—a _normal boy_???

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. If I owned the HP universe, I wouldn't be suffering through high school everyday while sharing a bedroom with my eight-year-old sister. Seems like this is just the way things go, though, eh? Anyways, don't sue me, I don't own anything but characters you don't recognize and the basic plot line, and I have not nor will I ever say that I _do_ own it. Period.

**Note:** This is completely separate from my other story and hopefully better written and thought-out. The chapters will take a while between updates because I have to write 'em, type 'em, and edit 'em. I do apologize for that (but they're long, which is half the reason for the time). And, if I happen to have mistakes hidden in here somewhere, tell me; I need to know, so I can correct them. I don't want to have a mistake-ridden chapter clouding the plot, and I appreciate constructive criticism. It would also be helpful to know if anyone thinks this is headed off right, and if I've a good idea brewing. And how much of Harry's childhood I should go through. That's really all I have to say right now, so… enjoy!

Blessings and cheers,

S.A.M.

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"Albus, no!" was all it took to still the old man's fast-pasted stride. He turned to the owner of the panic-laced voice behind him.

"Surely you understand, Remus, that it must be so?"

"No! It is unsafe! I've met them, Albus. You'd never believe how witch-hating and narrow-minded they are. Harry would never survive in that environment." The brown eyes took on a look of pleading. "Albus, _please_. You have to understand."

"He must be protected—"

"These people will not _protect_ him, Albus, don't you see it? They are our _enemies_! The kind that wish to burn us in hell! Please! No!"

The old, white-haired man sighed heavily. "What do you suggest then, Remus? What could we possibly afford such a target?"

"I'll take him! We'll protect him with Fidelius! With the strongest wards—enforced by _all_ of the Order! Anything!"

Albus's eyes darted around the sleeping road, where a tabby cat watched attentively from a fence and a very large bearded man leaned on a motorcycle but listened with rapt attention.

"Remus," Albus said gently, "is it you or he that needs this?"

Remus seemed to deflate right in front of them. "Both," was the quiet answer.

Albus looked from the crumbled man in front of him to the silently laying baby in his cradled arms. "Minerva?" he called to the tabby cat, "what is your opinion?"

The cat jumped from the wall and grew into a woman with a tight bun in her hair. "I believe," she stated, frowning, "that Remus is correct. But, you know already, Albus, how I feel about leaving the child with the Muggles."

"They are his relatives, Minerva. Surely that counts for something?"

Remus was at his side now, shaking his head vigorously. "You don't know them, Albus. You never saw the way they treated Lily and James, or even Harry. You've no idea what you'd be getting yourself—or Harry—into."

"Give Remus a chance, Albus. Yeh know he means well," said the large man in a low voice.

Albus looked around at his three colleagues—no, friends—and said, "All right, Remus, I'm giving you the chance, but I'll be checking in tomorrow afternoon to set up wards."

Remus's face lit up considerably, and it looked like he was almost jumping for joy. He only didn't hug Albus because of the sleeping baby that was carefully cradled in the old man's arms.

Albus gave the boy, Harry, one last smile before handing him over to the younger man.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Albus," said Remus, then, with a '_crack!_', he disappeared.

"Was that the right choice?" Albus asked the night sky.

Minerva responded from behind him, "I think it was Albus. We'll know in time."

The old man nodded silently, gazing at the stars.

Then the large, bearded man started the motorcycle, and, with short good-byes, drove into the sky and away, taking off the ground.

Albus and Minerva were left alone. "We'll know in time, Albus," she said quietly. With a quick glance at the other, they both took out wooden sticks and disappeared with two '_crack!_'s.

llllllllllllllllllll

Miles away, at a house on a cliff looking over the ocean, a baby was being put down into a small bed. After laying the baby in the cradle, Remus sat back in his chair.

Sitting silently, the young man finally allowed tears to fall. He wept. He wept for his best friends; he wept for the boy who would never know his parents. He wept for past mistakes, future mistakes, and even mistakes that were not his own. And finally, he wept that he couldn't prevent any of it. And the powerless feeling that came with that knowledge.

llllllllllllllllllll

After a few long hours, Remus fell into the inevitable hold of unconsciousness. A fitful sleep that seemed to continuously trade places with the tossing-and-turning routine.

At noontime, when he was attempting to feed Harry, a knock at the door sounded. A fist clenched his heart as he thought of the mortal peril Harry's situation held them both in. His fears were soon soothed, however, when Albus Dumbledore's voice sounded through the walls. "Remus? Open, please, it's just me."

Tentatively, Remus opened the door.

Albus strode in and smiled sadly at a chair-bound Harry James Potter. The baby made a gurgling noise and promptly spit out some mushy orange stuff. "Yick, Remus," he said.

"We should set up wards," said Albus, "just in case."

"Does anyone know what happened?"

"No. But Voldemort—"

Remus flinched.

"—had said that he would call a meeting together after he killed the Potters, so all the Death Eaters must attend, but no one was ever called."

"Snape said that?"

"Yes." The aged man sat gingerly down in a chair next to Harry, who was watching both of them attentively.

"How do you know that Snape just isn't trusted enough to go?" Remus commenced his attempts to feed the child in the high chair, but Harry just flung the food around.

"Because Severus is one of the most trusted. Completely inner-circle. There is no doubt in our minds." Albus took the spoonful of carrot mush from Remus and kindly goaded the food into Harry's mouth. The child swallowed happily and laughed, waving his tiny fists around.

Remus scowled at his elder, then turned to the boy. "Maybe this was the wrong decision," he said sadly, looking at Harry.

"No, no, child. I've been thinking. This will be good for the both of you, save one thing—he cannot be spoiled, no matter your baser instincts."

Remus frowned. "Why not? Isn't that what you do to babies?"

"Yes," Albus twinkled mournfully, "but Harry is different. We need him, and we can't have our savior be a spoiled brat."

"Have you been talking to Snape?"

A real smile graced Dumbledore's face. "No. Well…not much." He tickled Harry's stomach, making the boy laugh gleefully and yell 'stop' repeatedly. Then Albus sobered abruptly. "A hard life it will be for him, otherwise."

"_Otherwise_? But—"

"Peace, Remus. Shall I call the Order? No doubt they'll all have opinions on this. We should place wards before the Fidelius."

"Yes, call them. We should have an official meeting before placing the wards."

Dumbledore gazed off into space for a moment, and a fireball erupted next to him, causing the sound of phoenix song to echo through the dining room. A scarlet and gold phoenix appeared with it, landing on Albus's shoulder gracefully. "Ah, Fawkes, wonderful to see you. Call the Order, if you will."

The phoenix blinked once, and then began singing again.

"Good," Albus said.

Remus nodded and turned back to Harry, picking up the tiny spoonful of orange mush. "Alright, Harry, come on, now. You want the carrot?" The spoon went closer to Harry's mouth.

The boy pursed his lips, shaking his head vigorously. "No, no," he stated.

"Come on, you want the carrot?"

Harry continued to shake his head, the head graced with a fiery red lightning-bolt-shaped cut. Then he spooned his little finger through some carrot mush that was glooped on the table of his chair. He then held his gloop-covered index finger out companionably to Remus. "You try."

"Monkey-see, monkey-do," said Albus, a little twinkle lighting his eyes.

"Is that a Muggle phrase?" asked Remus hesitantly.

"Yes. It means that if he sees you do it, he himself may do the same thing."

"Oh." Frowning, Remus took and licked the carrot mush off Harry's finger. Then he made a face and looked around for the container. "Bloody nasty stuff."

But Harry was beaming. He took the spoonful of mush that Remus was holding into his mouth and swallowed happily. "Yick," he said, but this time with a grin.

Dumbledore laughed openly. Remus managed a smile also, but Harry was practically screaming with joy, thrashing his little hands around.

They were disturbed by the sound of loud cracks from outside. The Order members were arriving. Dumbledore moved to the entry hall and opened the door, letting in a few adults, and a few children.

Frank and Alice Longbottom came in with their son. Alice explained quickly, "We couldn't leave him at home alone, Albus. He had to come."

Dumbledore nodded in understanding and turned to the next couple. Two little identical three year olds ran through into the dining room, startling its occupants.

"We would have left Ron and Fred and George at home but Charlie is at school, and Bill and Percy are home alone, we have nothing to do with these two—" she waved her hands in the direction that the twins ran off to "—because they've scared off every baby-sitter so far, and no one would promise to watch the others if they were there—"

"It's all right, Molly, it's fine. Young Mister Weasley is not the only baby in attendance, and I'm sure we can find something to occupy Fred and George's minds. Greetings, Arthur."

There were short-syllable answers before more people entered the dining room where Remus was alone with Harry and the twins.

Molly Weasley gasped and ran over. "Remus! Is it—? Could it be—?"

"Yes, Molly, this is Harry."

Harry looked up at them and smiled slightly. "Hello," he said.

Frank and Alice Longbottom rushed over as well. "How is he? Is he faring alright?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, it's just a child."

The other occupants turned to the door, from which the low, scathing remark had come.

"Severus! He just lost his parents!" Molly said.

"And he's too young to know of it anyway."

"Be a little sympathetic, Snape," growled Remus. "You of all people should know that his life will not be too pleasant without a mother and a father. Every child deserves a mother and a father. And he's old enough to notice they're missing."

Snape snorted, but before he could make his next comment, Andromeda and Ted Tonks walked through the door behind him, the former hand-in-hand with an eleven-year-old girl. Snape looked down at her and said in a sneering voice, "Hello, Miss Tonks. Still on suspension, I trust?"

Her eyes widened and she darted behind her mother.

"Severus," Ted said in a warning voice. "We're all allies here. Why don't you act like one for a change? We've just had a deadly blow to our strength, and we need all the support we can get."

The dark-haired Potions Master for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry scowled and took his seat at the incredibly large dining table. "_Deadly blow_," he scoffed. "I think you're overrating the Potters."

Many turned to scowl at him.

More people trickled in, most of the women travelling to the far end where Remus was still attempting to feed Harry without having to actually eat any more of it himself. The feminine help was proving beneficial, though they kept asking why Remus was still feeding him mush, when Harry's old enough to eat cooked carrots and such.

Soon everyone had taken their seats, filling the table—save four empty chairs, which everyone looked at mournfully—and the children were banished to the study for the house-elves to take care of, except Harry, who was now sitting on Remus's lap at the head of the table.

Dumbledore sat at the other head, Fawkes still perched on his shoulder. "Today, as you all know, is the 1st of November. I promised you all last night that we would have an emergency Order of the Phoenix meeting today, as soon as humanly possible. I also assume you know the events of last night." Albus took on a solemn tone. "If you are not aware, then I shall inform you now. Lily and James Potter were attacked last night at Godric's Hollow. Harry James Potter was the only survivor. Including Voldemort."

There were gasps around the table. Whether because of the name—which they feared so much—or because of the news, Albus Dumbledore couldn't tell.

"But—Albus—how could you possibly know whether You-Know-Who survived or not?"

The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry turned to answer the question. "Miss Diason, surely you don't believe that there were no witnesses to such an event?"

The black-haired woman looked sheepish. "Then who was there, sir?"

"Voldemort's—" people shuddered and gasped at the name "—entire inner-circle was in attendance, surrounding the building. Some were even on the inside, guarding doors and such. At least, my first person account says so, as does our spy's Pensieve memory."

Sarah Sueli had wide eyes, sitting near Remus's end of the table. "Then what happened, sir? You say that You-Know-Who didn't survive, but does that mean he's defeated? Is the war over?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "The war will not be over until Voldemort's followers are arrested and sentenced to Azkaban." Another round of gasps at the feared name of the Dark Lord went around the table.

Dumbledore turned and summoned a house-elf, making a request of it for a few moments. He then straightened and faced the Order members again. "I have looked at my spy's memory with use of a Pensieve, as I mentioned. I do not believe that Voldemort is dead, per say. I believe that he has been merely inconvenienced. He could come back anytime, but I don't know how. And nor does he, most likely, which is why I said he didn't really survive."

"But there's always the chance that he does know—or even that he's in the process of coming back to life?" It was Alice Longbottom, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth and thinking of her own baby boy—Neville.

Albus turned to her. "It is most unlikely. Perhaps it would be better if you all saw the Pensieve's accounts for yourselves."

There were frightened nods around the table. They were scared, yes, but they were brave as well, and they wanted to see.

A house elf popped into the room holding a rune-covered bowl with a silvery-liquid inside. Then the elf ran to the other side of the room and retrieved Harry Potter, disappearing again with a '_pop!_'.

The Head of the Order spun his wand in the silvery liquid, then pulled the strand over to the brown wall behind him. He pressed the strand against the wall and it spun over the wood, forming a picture of that night. Everyone stared at it, watching the picture get clearer…

**A tall man in long black robes with glowing red eyes blasted down the door to a well-kept house and entered, followed by a procession of more black-cloaked men in white masks. The entry hall of the manor was empty, so the cloaked men continued to walk. Behind them, more masked and cloaked men were circling the house, disabling all wards that may alert others to the danger the inhabitants were in.**

**A hissed order passed through the ranks, seeming to be spoken in the mind, and not audible to any other than those the speaker wanted to hear. _Follow me._ Some men turned into what was visible as a dining room, and some others continued to follow the red-eyed man, Voldemort, in through a living room. **

**Voldemort continued up a set of polished stairs and into a hallway. The hallway had several doors. The red-eyed leader sent a few of his men through each door via mind-spoken commands. But Voldemort himself headed towards the very last door, accompanied by two masked men of his inner-circle.**

**The sounds of battle could be heard from below, the shouting of spells and screams of pain. The Dark Lord waited for silence to open the door, sure that the people inside of it would be trembling in fear by now, and knowing, positively, that his Death Eaters had placed strong anti-apparition wards on the premises, just so he could savor this opportunity. Soon a clearly shouted "_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_ from the room below pierced the silence and caused a smile to spread on the almost inhuman face of Voldemort. **

**The Dark Lord reached for the handle of the door and creaked it open slowly, a cruel, evil grin on his barely-human face. **

**A red-haired woman sat in the corner of the room, holding a small baby to her chest and crying openly. "Harry, Harry, Harry," she wailed. Then, after a loud, wracking sob, she yelled, "James! James, James, James." She shuddered with her cries and tried to push herself farther back into the corner, against the wall so closely she could have melted into it. "Harry, Harry!"**

**"Ah… Mrs. Potter," came the cold, hissing voice of Voldemort. "So _good_ to see you again…."**

**She whimpered and cradled the baby closer to her chest. "Harry, Harry, Harry," was whispered pathetically.**

**"Look what you've been reduced to," clucked the Dark Lord. "Once so brave, so defiant, and now…. Merely the _threat_ of harming your son terrifies you! Motherhood has weakened you, idiot woman…." A raspy, terrible laugh filled the room. **

**"Please don't hurt Harry," she whimpered.**

**"Don't hurt Harry!" mocked Voldemort. "Get out of the way, silly woman, and I won't touch _you_."**

**"Please don't hurt Harry," she repeated, pleading.**

**"Do as I say!" roared Voldemort.**

**Lily Potter screaming in terror and backed farther into the wall.**** "I won't let you hurt Harry!"**

**"Then stand up and duel me for the boy."**

**The woman looked up in shock. **

**"Complete fair play. I won't even kill him in the middle of the duel. Quite an opportunity for you."**

**The improbability of what was happening left the woman completely baffled. She stood shakily, still wracking with heavy sobs every few moments, and set Harry Potter in his crib. She then picked up her wand and leveled it at one of the most powerful wizards of the century. **

**An evil grin spread across Voldemort's face once again. "Unforgivables are allowed."**

**Then, with a flick of his wand, Voldemort muttered "Crucio!" and Lily Potter shrieked in pain, falling to the floor. After a minute the Dark Lord lifted the curse. Harry Potter began to cry at the almost inhuman sound of his mother's screams.**

**"Do you give up?" he asked mockingly.**

**She shook her head fiercely and struggled to stand, grasping her wand valiantly. **

**Voldemort's laugh filled the room again, utterly bone chilling. **

**This seemed to stiffen Lily's resolve. Grimacing, she raised her wand to the man whose minions killed her husband. "Expelliarmus!" she shouted.**

**Voldemort blocked it and laughed. "A simple disarming spell is all you do? My, my, my, perhaps I have overrated you."**

**"Delegavi!"******

**He blocked it and threw "Imperious!"**

**She was incapable of blocking it, and, after her head sagged and her entire body seemed ready to collapse, she looked back up with her bright green eyes glazed over. She turned to her only son and raised her wand. "A—" **

**But then she stopped suddenly and began to tremble, fighting the curse with every ounce of strength. After a few terrible moments, she turned back to Voldemort with a new fire in her eyes.**

**"Stupefy! Petrificus totalus! Delegavi! Inflavi! Deieci! Infirmius!"**

**The Dark Lord blocked each one. "Is that all you have, my dear? I'm disappointed." He took a step forward and leveled his wand at her. "Last chance. Join my ranks and you can live."**

**"Don't kill Harry."**

**That horrible laugh again.**** "That I will not promise."**

**She began to cry again. "Please, _please_, don't kill Harry."**

**"Are you prepared to die for your son?"**

**Her wand was still raised at Voldemort. "Of course." She was positioned between the Dark Lord and Harry.**

**"Crucio."******

**She screamed in agony and fell back on the crib, still shielding her only son. Then Voldemort lifted the curse. Harry Potter had stopped crying and was now wearing a stricken face.**

**"Mumma," he whispered.**

**Lily Potter panted heavily, gasping for air and grimacing in pain as she helplessly tried to protect Harry. **

**"Still going to fight, Mrs. Potter?"**

**She nodded silently, defending Harry with her body.**

**"Just step aside."**

**"No."**

**"Fine."******

**Voldemort raised his wand and fired, "Avada Kedavra!" A bright stream of green light shot from his wand and engulfed Lily Potter. Her body collapsed to the floor in front of the crib. **

**The Dark Lord smiled his sickly smile and moved up beside the crib. The youngest Potter began to cry. **

**"Shh, shh," said Voldemort.**

**The baby stilled in mild fear and apprehensiveness as one pale finger came to touch his cheek. Voldemort then stepped back and aimed his wand, firing the Killing Curse once again.**

**"Avada Kedavra!" **

**The green jet of light streamed from the wand and engulfed Harry's small body. It seemed to stay there for a few moments, consuming the child's body, until it shot back up to the wand in an instant. Voldemort screamed his own agony and dropped the wand in an attempt to stop the curse. But the green light had begun to consume him, chasing him out of his own body. **

**His screams suddenly cut off and the room seemed to explode outwards with a '_bang!'_ that shook the foundations of the house. And when the two Death Eaters that had come with the Dark Lord could finally see through the dust, Voldemort was no where to be seen. The Death Eaters outside the house could feel this change and disapparated, lifting the wards they had been holding. One of the Death Eaters left in the nursery disapparated immediately also, upon seeing the wreckage. The other, however, moved to peek in over the nursery to see the child, Harry James Potter, alive and well with nothing but a bright red cut in the shape of a lightning bolt above his tiny brow and tear streaks going down his face. **

**Then the leftover Death Eater disapparated with a '_crack!'._ **

…The Order of the Phoenix sat in silence for a few moments as the memory returned to its place in the Pensieve.

"Uh…" Molly Weasley said, trying to break the awkward silence that had settled over the group. "What can possibly be said, now?"

"Not much," agreed Albus Dumbledore, sitting heavily back into his chair at the head of the table. "But I think it shows that Voldemort—" collected gasps from around the table "—is probably not dead. We don't really know what has happened to him."

"Perhaps banishment?" suggested Trave Jacklynn, a red-haired Auror for the Ministry.

"No, no," Arthur Weasley said. "From where would you say he was banished? That wouldn't make sense."

Jacklynn shrugged his shoulders.

"The only thing I can think of," started Albus, "would be that the backfired curse somehow ripped his body and magic from his soul."

"Wait…" said Satania Diason, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, "now we have You-Know-Who's soul running around, free? Couldn't he possess people and continue his work in this state, then?"

Ted Tonks shook his head. "No. If Albus is correct, then You-Know-You was also ripped from his magic, which means he's probably on a limited supply—if any. He may never recover. Or, he could suck the magic out of others, I don't know. The possibilities in this kind of situation really are endless."

"Such a dangerous time…" muttered Molly Weasley.

A few people looked at her questioningly. "The times aren't as dangerous as they were twenty-four hours ago, Molly. I'm afraid I don't understand you," said Sarah Sueli, another Auror.

"It's a dangerous time," she repeated, glancing around. "All of us with children, responsibilities, and now this…. So dangerous."

Minerva McGonagall nodded, sending a worried glance at Molly. "It will be less dangerous if we can figure out what has happened and prevent You-Know-Who from coming back from wherever it is he's gone. We should aim to do that at any cost."

Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody spoke up from where he had been silent, "We also have to find that traitor, the reason the Potters where discovered in the first place. _Where_ is Black?" Moody's magical eye swiveled around to rest on the four empty chairs by Remus's end of the table.

"If you had just given up your friends to the Dark Lord, would you show up to the next meeting of his enemies?" asked Snape with a sneer. "You really think Black is going to show his face to any of us right now? Always knew he was _evil_," he spat.

"Then where is Peter?" asked little Filius Flitwick, who was sitting across from the empty chairs. "Why wouldn't Peter show up?"

"Perhaps he is on the run from his traitorous best friend. The man always was a _coward_."

Remus stiffened even from where he was sitting, an entire table length away from Snape's words. "Snape," he warned.

"All right, all right," said Dumbledore, raising his arms for peace. "Let's get back to the subject at hand. I do not know where Sirius—nor Peter—is, but we will alert the Ministry of what he has done. I'm sure the Law Enforcement branch will get on the case. Moody?"

Alastor nodded. "I'll set the Aurors to work immediately."

"And if Peter doesn't show up, we'll go look for him," Dumbledore added. "Now, do we have any questions on _other_ issues?"

"Sir? What about Harry Potter?" piped up a voice from the back.

"Nymphadora!" shouted Andromeda Tonks from her seat. "You're supposed to be with the other children in the study! What are you doing out here?"

"I'm helping the Order, obviously, mum," said Nymphadora with her chin in the air. She turned back to Dumbledore. "Sir? Did Harry Potter survive the Killing Curse?"

Dumbledore nodded solemnly, not seeming too surprised that she was there. "That he did, Miss Tonks." The rest of the room looked at him in shock. Apparently this hadn't registered in the Order's minds.

"But—it was one of the first things we learned in school this year—the Killing Curse is unblockable, unstoppable, and it kills on impact. How did the baby survive it?"

"I can honestly say that I do not know, Miss Tonks. That's one of the mysteries we wish to investigate tonight."

"Like where You-Know-Who went."

"Call him Voldemort, child. Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself."

"Uh—er… _him_. Where did _he_ go?"

"That we also do not know. I'm going to have to ask that you go back to the study with the little ones, now, though. Order business is not something one your age should be getting herself mixed into."

A house elf appeared and shepherded a reluctant Nymphadora Tonks back up the stairs to the study.

"How is the state of the Ministry?" asked Dumbledore.

"They're in a rut. They don't know exactly what happened at Godric's Hollow, so they're using their crime laboratories to piece the clues together. So far, they've nothing," said Hevrin Boulin, the Minister's private assistant.

"Do you think it would be helpful to loan them the Pensieve?" asked Sarah.

McGonagall shook her head. "They would then know that we have someone in the Death Eater ranks, and they would know that we've been actively participating in standing up to You-Know-Who. We've managed to keep Crouch convinced that we're just individual people that know each other and have discussed these things, but if he realizes that we reformed Godric Gryffindor's old Order he'll see it as a threat and go to all measures to disband us. We can't have that as this crucial time."

"What exactly makes this time so crucial? We've had big disasters and big miracles like this before. What's the change of this one?" asked Kingsley Shacklebolt, another Auror at the Ministry.

Dumbledore addressed Shacklebolt with a somber look. "The Potters were very important to the Order. Which is why the disaster aspect is so great. While on the other hand, Voldemort has disappeared, and Harry Potter has survived the _Killing Curse_. Quite incredible miracles, if I do say so myself. So the question, I say, is not 'What's the difference with this miracle?' but rather 'How and why did this miracle happen?' Surely you understand, then, Kingsley, the importance of answering this question. If we can answer it, we can stop the war."

The people gathered at the table looked sufficiently perturbed.

"Perhaps now is the best time to inform you that I may know why this happened."

Minerva glared at him. "Yes, knowing why would definitely be a benefit, Albus."

"A short time ago, when I was interviewing for the Divination position at Hogwarts, one of the applicators stated a prophecy in the middle of the interview. I attempted to understand this prophecy and, after interpreting it, decided that two of our Order's families were in danger. The Longbottoms," he said, waving his hand to where Alice and Frank were sitting solemnly, "and, of course, the Potters. I went to any extent to bring them into what I believed was sufficient safety. The prophecy tells of the one that will be able to defeat Voldemort, so, obviously, I found this very interesting." He paused.

"Well?" said Moody. "Tell us the prophecy."

"The seer said this: '_THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT…. THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…._'"

Many mouths opened, whether to gape or to talk. Albus cut off those who wanted to say anything. "Now, before you try to comprehend this, let me talk. I know that I told you of this before, without giving you the actual prophecy, but I believe that it comes into play now, and you need to know. It means that either Neville Longbottom—" he gestured to the Longbottoms "—or Harry Potter will have the power to vanquish Voldemort. Both of their parents have defied him three times—publicly, I believe this means, an embarrassment to Voldemort—and both boys have birthdays at the end of July, none but a day apart. I don't really know what _'marking him as his equal' _is referring to, nor do I understand the _'power the Dark Lord knows not'_. I believe these answers will come in time. I do not know if last nights events involving the Killing Curse have anything to do with the prophecy. In fact, Neville Longbottom may very well be the one the prophecy refers to. Once again, I do not know. Other than what I believe, the prophecy is an enigma."

When Albus finally stopped talking, silence engulfed the Order of the Phoenix once again.

"You must be mistaken," said Minerva eventually, usually the last person that would ever say that to Albus Dumbledore. "The fate of the wizarding world cannot rest on the shoulders of that tiny boy."

"No, the _entire_ world, Minerva, even the Muggles," growled Moody. "The fate of the _entire_ world lies with Harry Potter."

"Or Neville Longbottom," added Satania Diason gloomily.

Albus nodded his head. "Though I do not understand Divination too well, I know the history of prophecies. It is extremely rare that one can rewrite their own destiny."

"It says that he has the _power_ to vanquish the Dark Lord," Severus Snape pointed out with a scowl. "It does _not_ state that he is the only one with it."

"We must keep such hope, Severus," said Albus sadly.

"Albus, _you_ are the strongest wizard since the Hogwarts founders! Surely you have as much—more!—power than either of the babies," Alice Longbottom said. "We couldn't possibly hand over such a burden to children so young."

Dumbledore shook his head, "No, we couldn't. Which is why we wait until they are older to tell them of the prophecy. As for me being the strongest wizard…" He opened his arms and shook his head. "… I have never survived the Killing Curse."

The Order members frowned.

"If it was ever thrown at you, you probably could," said Sara Sueli.

"I would never take the chance, because I highly doubt it. Such a thing is impossible," Albus responded. "I don't know—though I have suspicions—how he has done it, but indeed he has. We all witnessed it ourselves."

An Auror near the middle of the table shook his bald head. "It's impossible to survive that curse. Absolutely _impossible_."

"Not anymore," Mad-Eye Moody grumbled. "A belief that the Ministry has had for years has just been disproved by a baby of a mere 14 months. It's not _impossible_, apparently. It's absolutely _incredible_."

"He's the boy who lived through the Killing Curse. The only Boy-Who-Lived." Arthur Weasley shook his head in remorse.

"There is nothing we can do now. We must figure out our _next_ move," said Satania.

"First," Albus said authoritatively, "we should keep the Longbottoms under Fidelius, but strengthen the wards, just in case. If Voldemort does survive, somehow, we must be prepared. His first move, since we now know for _sure_ that he knows of the prophecy, will be to eliminate what he believes to be the only other threat." Albus then sunk into thought. "Hmm… does the Ministry know if Harry survived, Hevrin?"

Boulin shook his head. "They know that three Killing Curses were fired, then an explosion, then about forty disapparitions, using magical signatures and hard evidence left in the area. I believe Minister Crouch is under the impression that Harry Potter was killed and his body was taken by You-Know-Who, for reasons unknown."

Moody nodded. "An alert went up to the Missing Persons Department, but, because he is presumed dead, it's not top-priority."

"Perhaps we should keep up the illusion that he is dead, Albus?" Minerva asked.

Albus shook his head. "I doubt that would be beneficial. Quite an eruption would happen when he comes back to life in ten years."

"Change his name," suggested Andromeda Tonks. "Make him one of the Order's babies. You-Know-Who and his followers would never suspect him—although, if You-Know-Who is indeed alive, he may know that Harry is as well. But if we're lucky, he would never believe that someone could survive that curse."

Albus contemplated this. "It does have its benefits. But I don't know if it's the right thing to do."

"It would eliminate people's—already non-existent—belief that one can survive the Killing Curse," piped up Professor Filius Flitwick. "More like, I don't know; we're preventing an uproar."

"And he would be able to live a normal life," said Remus.

"You don't think he'd want fame, Lupin? He _is_ Potter's son, after all," Snape said with a sneer.

"Do not insult the dead, Severus," reprimanded Albus seriously.

Snape just frowned.

"As for the fame, I believe Remus is right. Harry will never lead a normal life if he is known as, to use Arthur's phrase, the '_Boy-Who-Lived_'. As for giving him a new life…I do not know. While I believe that he deserves to know about his parents and his survival, I also believe that this _new life_ that he would be given would be excellent for his own protection."

"Perhaps we should take a vote then, Albus," suggested Sueli.

"There's an idea," Ted Tonks said. "That way we get the entire Order in on the decision."

Many of the others agreed.

"This is a very serious matter," announced Albus. "This boy's life is in our hands." A house elf appeared and handed Harry Potter to Remus before popping out of the room. "Who believes young Harry should begin his life anew?"

Some of the Order raised their hands.

Albus counted how many hands were in the air then gestured for the owners to lower their arms. "Who believes that Harry should live his life as the famous '_Boy-Who-Lived_'?"

A few different hands were raised. Albus counted them before they were lowered. He looked around the room. "And how many are undecided?"

The rest of the hands went up into the air, not many. They were quickly counted before being lowered.

"Ah. It appears that we have come to a decision." He paused.

"Well?" Minerva asked when he paused. "What is to happen to the boy, Albus? Tell us."

"Harry will be living a different life."

"Who will take him?" asked Satania.

Albus developed a little twinkle in his eye. "Who wants to?"

Remus looked up at him in shock, Harry Potter's little hand still wrapped around his index finger.

"We'd take him," said Andromeda Tonks. "Nymphadora could use a little sibling."

"We'd take him," Molly Weasley said, a little mournfully, "but we've barely enough galleons to support ourselves as it is."

"Albus," Remus said warningly, "you're not taking him from me. He's my best friend's son, and I love him."

The rest of the Order looked at him, somewhat shocked. "But—but Remus," McGonagall started, "you've no experience with young children, and—and during the full moon—"

"I'll hire an appropriate baby-sitter, like Andromeda, Albus, or Molly. I'll take care of him, I promise. James said that if anything happened to him, the next available Marauder should take care of Harry. As the others are—" he looked over at the empty chairs "—clearly unavailable, Harry is my responsibility. I promise to protect him with my life, if that is what it takes."

Albus suspected that Remus was desperately grasping for anything connected to his lost friend, but knew that the man would take his pledge seriously. "How do we go about this? Remus cannot bear a child without a mother, and Harry is not newborn."

"Blame it on an old dead girlfriend," growled Moody.

Arthur Weasley nodded his head, looking intently at Harry. "And the boy's small enough to be called younger still."

Minerva looked around, from Albus to Harry and back again with thin lips. "We're really going to do this?" She sighed. "Oh, alright. Here's how it happened then: Remus impregnated a woman, but she died giving birth. Because it was a Muggle hospital and no known father was present, the child was nursed to full health and set to an orphanage until they could locate the real father. A few months later, here we are." She looked at Remus skeptically. "As for the resemblance—or lack thereof—we'll just say he looks like his mother."

Albus nodded, a twinkle lighting his eyes. "Splendid idea, Minerva. But what shall we call him?"

"Harry James Lupin," said Remus.

"A little suspicious, don't you think?" asked Ted Tonks.

Remus shook his head. "If we wait about a week to allow the world to acknowledge the recent tragedy, we can say I named him in honor. Lily and James' deaths will fall into the past, like everyone else's before them." He looked down at Harry, a sadness evident in his eyes.

Harry lay silently, sleeping.

"Are there any kinks?" asked Professor Satania Diason. "Any way for someone to discover what we've just created?"

Albus looked around the room, at all these faces, his Order. "How about a security enforcer?" he asked. "Would that settle your nerves?"

People looked around, nodding.

"We should get Nymphadora to sign as well," said Andromeda. "She knows his identity, after all."

"Yes," Albus said. "And the house elves are already sworn to secrecy about anything relating to the Order?"

Remus nodded. "Yes, Albus, of course."

Albus summoned a house elf and spoke quietly for a moment. Then the house elf disappeared with a '_pop!_'. Then Nymphadora Tonks was herded into the dining room. Dumbledore conjured a chair next to him for the girl to sit. Furrowing her eyebrows with a frown, she sat in the chair. Then Albus conjured a parchment. Waving his wand, he muttered a few spells, causing a wave of blue sparkles to flow over the paper. He then conjured a quill and ink, handing all three objects over to Nymphadora Tonks.

She looked at them nervously. "Er… what's this, sir? Why do I have to sign it?"

"Atta girl," said Moody. "Constant vigilance, that's the key. You'd make a good Auror."

She smiled brilliantly before turning back to her Headmaster. "Well?"

"Signing this is a promise that you will not reveal Harry's—" he waved his hand in the direction of the baby in question "—identity."

"What's happening to Harry?"

"Maybe we'll tell you in time, my dear. But right now you just have to sign the paper, promising you won't reveal that Harry Lupin is anything other than what he seems."

Tonks picked up the quill and wrote her name on the parchment. The blue sparks that were still washing over the paper flowed up and over her through the quill. She sparkled for a moment before turning back to normal. She shivered slightly at the sudden change of body temperature caused by the magic.

"There," Dumbledore said, taking the paper and passing it to the next person at the table, Minerva, "that wasn't hard."

"Nope," she agreed, rocking in her chair. "But what's with the sparkles?"

Dumbledore's eye twinkles mildly. "Magic, of course."

She made an exasperated sound. "Well I knew _that_ much."

"Nymphadora! Don't be so insubordinate!" Andromeda Tonks was frowning at her daughter while accepting the parchment from her husband.

Nymphadora scowled. "Mum, I _hate_ that name."

Andromeda frowned but said nothing, signing the paper and passing it along. The parchment traveled around the table, and everyone signed. There was a bit of a holdup when Harry stole the quill and tried to write on the parchment as well. Eventually Remus got the quill away from him and continued the paper on the trail around the table.

Once it reached Albus, he smiled and tapped it with his wand, making the parchment ravel up and disappear with a '_poof!_'.

"You're not signing it?" asked Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Someone needs to be able to tell the secret if necessary. None of you who signed the parchment will be able to."

"What kind of charm did you cast on us, Albus?" Moody growled. "I wouldn't have signed it if I didn't trust you, old man, but I'm curious to know."

"If you attempt to tell anyone other than the names on that list, various consequences will occur."

"Various consequences?" asked Nymphadora Tonks.

"For instance," Albus said, "your mouth may disappear; your jaw freeze up; your hand—if you're writing the secret—may become petrified, and things such as those. To avoid these circumstances, don't try to tell anyone. Very simple."

A few others nodded.

"If you believe that someone should know, inform me and I'll make the final decision. As I said, I am the only one who has the ability to reveal this information." Albus smiled to his fellow Order members. Then he turned to Nymphadora Tonks. "Now, Miss Tonks, I believe you are returning to school this Monday?"

She nodded, looking sheepish.

"And you will _never_ try to shave Mrs. Norris again?"

She shook her head. "But it was in the Halloween spirit, sir…."

"Nevertheless, Mister Filch is still adjusting to the school, and doing something so—ah—cruel to his pet Kneazle does not make him very happy. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"Good. Stay out of trouble, Miss Tonks. I don't want to have to take such drastic measures again. Understood?"

She nodded again and ran back up to the study, where the twins were banging things around.

As soon as she was out of sight Albus's previously stern expression softened into a smile. "It was a bad thing to do, I'll admit, but we'll be laughing about it in the staffroom for years to come."

Minerva snorted. "Filch didn't seem to think so."

"Mm, true. Ah, well. Back to current affairs." Albus glanced over to Harry James Lupin. "Have we covered everything we need to for today?"

There were nods around the table.

"Then we should activate the wards. Shall we?" He stood.

The Order proceeded outside.

They formed a semi-circle around the front of the house and raised their wands.

"Ready?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," the Order chorused.

"One…. Two…. Three…."

"**TEGO**!"

Bright silver light encased the house and shimmered for a moment before the silver casing faded away.

"That should be effective enough if somehow the Fidelius is breached. With all of our power holding it up Voldemort himself would have trouble breaking through."

"We'lll have to move out of Grimmauld Place, Albus," said Moody. "What with it being the traitor's house." He spit on the ground. "I knew all Blacks were scum."

"_Hey_!" said Andromeda Tonks.

"You're the exception, then, Andromeda," Moody corrected. "But you're one in a million."

She huffed and walked back into the house.

"Smooth, Moody," Ted said, shaking his head. "But I'll admit, there were a lot of bad ones in that family."

"Let's get back in the house," Albus said. "I'll activate the Fidelius charm and we can get back to our lives." He sighed.

Everyone joined Harry and Andromeda in the dining room. They resumed their seats and looked expectantly at Albus.

"Remus must cast the spell," he said.

Lupin stood and handed Harry to Andromeda. He then took out his wand and walked up to the Headmaster. Albus stood and faced his friend, allowing the wand to be pointed at his chest.

"**Celo**** clam_ fidelius_** _47 Shoreside Way_," Remus said clearly.

Maroon light will silver sparkly spots flew from Remus's wand to Albus's chest and seemed to disappear inside of him. Albus then sat down in his chair, and Remus walked back to his own seat, picking Harry up on the way.

Dumbledore conjured a piece of parchment, quill, and ink and wrote down a short phrase on the paper. Setting the quill in the inkwell, he banished them.

"Remus," he said, sitting back in his chair, "as Grimmauld Place is no longer safe, may we use this house? We already know it is secure. And, of course, it is spacious enough for our needs."

"Of course. The Order is always welcome here."

Albus nodded with a smile. "Then, as Secret-Keeper for the Order of the Phoenix and Remus and Harry Lupin, I'm telling you all that you can find the Headquarters at 47 Shoreside Way, Dunwich, Suffolk County, East Anglia, England."

Everyone in the room felt a little tingle of magic.

Albus then made duplicates of the parchment in front of him. "Here," he said, handing a copy to the Tonks', the Longbottoms, and the Weasleys. "For the children, when they need to see the building."

They nodded and thanked him, setting the papers away in pockets of their various wizarding robes.

"This meeting of the Order of the Phoenix is hereby over."

Many of the members sat back in their chairs. It seemed that a professional air had lifted.

"So, Albus," said Moody. "Am I to tell the Ministry that Harry Potter is dead?"

Albus shook his head. "Let them discover it for themselves. I'm sure all the evidence points to that anyway."

"That makes sense," Moody said, said, standing from his chair. "But they'll never find a body."

"Which makes perfect sense to us," said Sarah Sueli, "but will be incredibly strange to the Ministry."

"They'll blame it on Voldemort," said Albus (everyone cringed), "but he has never bothered to take the body before, so eventually their hypothesis will fall through."

"Adding to the equation, of course," said Challen Nite, a usually quiet, reserved man who worked in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic, "the Death Eaters that were present know what really happened, and they have probably told the others."

"Ah," said Dumbledore, "but one of those men is one of ours. Besides, a Death Eater cannot reveal what truly happened without admitting that he himself was there, revealing his identity as a Death Eater at the same time."

"True," said Arthur Weasley. "Have we any ideas on who that other Death Eater may be?"

Albus shook his head. "Our spy suspects that it was Lucius Malfoy, but there was no definite identification."

"Isn't Narcissa Malfoy bearing a son?" asked Kingsley.

"No, she gave birth in May of last year," said Andromeda Tonks.

"Spawn of evil," growled Moody. He glanced at a clock—a real one, with his real eye—that was mounted on the wall. "Well, that's really all the time I have. We ought to get back to the Ministry, lads."

Sarah Sueli, Hevrin Boulin, Arthur Weasley, Challen Nite, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and a few scattered others got up and followed Mad-Eye Moody out the front door. All Ministry employees.

Then all of the Hogwarts professors (except Albus and Minerva) left also. Soon a few more departed, leaving only Albus, Minerva, Andromeda and Ted, Frank and Alice, Molly, Remus, Harry (and Fawkes the phoenix, of course, who was silently perched on the back of Dumbledore's wingback chair).

Albus sighed and looked over at Harry. "Well. It's sure been an interesting 24 hours," he said, somewhat sadly.

"Lily and James were good people and helpful members of the Order," stated Minerva thinly. "They died with honor."

"This is all my fault," said Remus sadly, looking at the boy that the world would know as his son.

"How, Remus?" Albus asked. "There is nothing you could have prevented. You are human. You couldn't have seen this coming. Unfortunately, in war, there are casualties. We have lost two very dear people to us, but the blame cannot be laid on ourselves. The war—the enemy—is to blame."

Remus said nothing. He just pulled the child in his arms closer to his body.

"The mystery here, Albus," said Minerva McGonagall, changing the subject, "is how in the name of Gryffindor that boy_ survived_ the killing curse."

"Ah, yes," Albus responded, "that is a mystery, indeed. I have a few hypotheses, but we may never know for certain."

"What are your theories?" Alice Longbottom asked curiously.

"Well," the Headmaster started, leading the few others into the lounge room, getting comfortable in a cushy black chair in front of a warm fire. "I suspect that it has something to do with his mother's sacrifice. I'd have to do more research, but sacrifice such as that leaves a protection, an ancient magic that is unknown to most common-day wizards."

"I'd offer you my library, but I doubt it has anything of value to that particular search," said Remus.

"Our family library may be of use to you, Albus," said Andromeda Tonks, ordering a drink from a house-elf. "You know you're welcome to it."

"Mm, ours as well," said Alice Longbottom.

"Thank you, I may have to take you up on that. The Hogwarts library doesn't have many tombs on ancient magic." He ordered a lemonade from the house elf. "I should request that Madam Pince get copies."

Minerva snorted and ordered tea. "Any more books and we'll have to expand the library."

"Knowledge is not something to fear, Minerva," Albus said, sipping lemonade.

"Says the headmaster of one of the most prestigious schools in Europe," Ted Tonks drawled.

"Mm, yes," the headmaster in question hummed.

They lapsed into silence. Fawkes took his perch on Dumbledore's shoulder again.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Harry woke up and began to cry.

"Uh…" said Remus with a frown.

A house elf appeared with a small bowl of chopped apples. Remus took it and attempted to calm Harry enough to help him eat the apple pieces.

Harry continued to cry. "Hurts, Remus!"

Molly Weasley took Harry and the bowl from Remus and attempted to calm the boy herself. She whispered soothing words and rubbed his small back, but it didn't work.

Harry was still crying.

"Albus! No child of mine has ever been so stubborn with his yelling!"

Just then Fawkes began to sing. As the sound of phoenix song filled the room, Harry began to stop crying.

"Well," Remus said eventually. "That's a handy little trick, Fawkes."

After a few minutes of watching Harry fall asleep again, Molly stood up. "I ought to get home before Fred and George destroy your study," she said, stretching her legs subtly. "I've never had a tour of this house before, so… where are the children, Remus?"

"The study, of course," he mumbled, still watching the tiny, green-eyed baby sleep in his arms.

"Well I knew _that_, obviously," she said, exasperated. "I mean—"

She was interrupted by Fred and George Weasley's yells as they were herded into the room by a house elf carrying their younger brother, Ron.

Molly took the baby and shot the three year olds reproachful looks. They stopped running around and looked down at their shuffling feet.

"Imagine, Molly," said Albus, "in a few years no one will even know of what we've done here today. No one but the Order. In fact, Voldemort may not even be an issue in a few years. Who's to say? …Or, perhaps everyone _will_ know what we've done, and we'll be disbanded."

"No one but Godric Gryffindor himself could disband the Order," Ted said, frowning, sipping a cocktail.

"True," said Andromeda, "ultimately. Legally, however, the Ministry can forbid the Order of the Phoenix from acting."

"Even Minister Crouch isn't foolish enough to do something such as that should he discover we are acting right under his nose," Albus stated.

"Mmm. I really should be going. Good-bye, everyone. Come, Fred, George." She pat Harry's head and traveled out of the door. At the last moment she turned and looked back at Remus. "Good luck, by the way. And remember, if you ever need a hand…" she gestured to Ron in her arms, "this is number six."

He smiled and nodded a thank-you as she left.

Frank Longbottom sighed. "How do we know which child is the one from the prophecy, Albus?"

"We do not. But I have my suspicions."

Remus snapped out of a daydream instantaneously. "Who is it?"

"I believe that the prophecy refers to Harry."

The Longbottoms looked considerably relieved. Remus became even more tense.

"How is that?" asked Minerva. "Because he was able to survive the curse?"

Albus nodded slightly. "That's one reason."

"What others?" asked Ted.

"One can feel the power radiating off his in waves," stated the Headmaster.

"You can?"

He shook his head. "Not I. Fawkes."

"How can you tell that, Albus?" asked Minerva. She was sitting in a wooden, straight-backed chair with her legs crossed. "Fawkes does not speak."

"It's just one of those strange quirks. When Fawkes wants you to know something, you just _do_."

Remus gaped at him. "So… you're saying that… that _Fawkes_ can—er—_feel_ that Harry is powerful?"

Albus nodded, "Yes."

"How?" asked a small voice in the doorway. They hadn't even noticed her in the strangeness of the conversation.

"_Nympha_dora, have you taken to eavesdropping?" Andromeda said suspiciously.

The small, black-haired girl ambled into the room with her hands in her pants pockets, shaking her head with an innocent expression. "No, ma'am, of course not!" She plopped down on the rug before the fireplace. "But really, how?"

"Auras, I believe. I do not really know for certain. Apparently, if my assumption is correct, Harry's aura insinuates power."

Remus sat back in his chair. "What about Neville?"

"I don't know, to be honest."

"Is his birth at the end of July merely coincidence?" asked Alice. "He was almost a month early. Mere _coincidence_?"

"That is, in fact, a very legitimate question, but I don't know the answer."

"For being almost omniscient, Albus, you seem to be lacking in many answers today," Minerva observed.

Albus sank back into his cushy armchair with his lemonade and sighed deeply, the rare look of his age encompassing him. "The—ahem—attack on Godric's Hollow came as a surprise to me. I can honestly say I hadn't anticipated such a breach in the Potters' safety. I haven't had quite ample time to fully consider the questions this brings up. I do apologize for not knowing."

"It's quite alright," Remus said, standing. "Give me a minute." He left the room to climb upstairs and deposit Harry in the nursery. Then he turned and went back to the lounge room where the others were talking.

"So," said Frank. "Where were we?"

"Heady stuff," said Nymphadora knowingly from the floor, "we ought to change the subject."

Her mother looked at the clock on the wall. "Actually, we ought to be going, Dora. Mister Lovegood wants to see us for dinner this evening, before you go back to school. And I want to see how he's fairing after Sylvia's death… So many deaths lately."

"Indeed." Albus sipped his lemonade impassively.

She cleared her throat. "Dora, Ted, let's go."

They stood and wrapped heavy winter cloaks around themselves. Then they said their good-byes and departed through the front door.

The five people left sat in silence for a few moments.

Finally Albus heaved a sigh. "There is a portion of the prophecy that I saw fit not to reveal to the Order," he said.

Everyone snapped out of various daydreams to look over at him.

"I think everyone here has the right or authority to know, don't you all?"

"That you saw fit not to reveal to the Order… What is it?" asked Remus.

Minerva frowned. "Why wouldn't you reveal the entire thing, Albus?"

Frank and Alice Longbottom remained silent, waiting for him to go on.

"Listen and I'll explain. The last two parts say: '_AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER, FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES_.'"

There was silence as they turned this over in their minds.

"But, Albus," whispered Alice eventually, "doesn't that mean that You-Know-Who will kill him?"

He shook his head. "That is one of the possibilities, but not the only one. There is also the possibility that Harry—or Neville—will kill Voldemort to fulfill the prophecy."

"Yes," said Minerva, "but what are the chances?"

The old man shrugged. "A good as any, I would suppose."

"Albus! This is a mere _boy_ against one of the most _powerful_ wizards of the century!" Remus looked chagrined. "We can't do that to a child!"

The other agreed. "That is my belief as well. Unfortunately, I cannot argue with a prophecy. We've tried such solutions before. Harry or Neville will have to fulfill the prophecy. There is nothing you or I can do."

"How can you be so _calm_ about this, Albus? This is absurd!" Frank Longbottom announced.

"I have had _months_ of deliberation on this matter," the headmaster responded. "Though when I first interpreted the prophecy my reaction was similar to yours."

"Surely there is _something_ we can do," Alice pleaded.

Remus frowned. "What exactly does that _mean_… 'either must die at the hand of the other'… does that mean that Harry or Neville is the _only_ one that can kill You-Know-Who, and You-Know-Who is the _only_ one that can kill Harry or Neville?"

"I don't really know. As I said, Divination is a vague subject. One I never really have understood." Dumbledore sighed once more.

"We have to train them," said Minerva. "We have to make them strong enough to do this, Albus. If they're the only ones, we're doomed if they fail."

He frowned. "That's why I didn't want to tell the whole Order. I don't want you all to lose hope, not when we all should be strong. We still have to fight back, no matter what is prophesied to come to pass."

"They still ought to get some sort of training, Albus," said Alice. "It's not fair for children with such a burden to be left completely unprotected."

"They are not completely unprotected. There are wards and charms protecting them, as well as some of our best Order members on guard. We can't train children anyway. Children aren't even appointed wands until they are eleven years of age and prepared to go to school. I believe that what will happen will happen if it is destined. We can't change it."

"But, Albus! We can help—at least a little bit! If we were to have Neville and Harry even just a _little_ bit trained, they're better off than defenseless! We may not be able to _change_ destiny, but we _do_ have the ability to help the true outcome!"

Albus turned to Remus. "If Harry or Neville's destiny says that he will fight, then he will, regardless of whether we train him or not."

"Remus has a point," said Minerva, with thin lips, "though their destinies say that they must fight, the outcomes will probably be more beneficial to their—our—cause if they are trained and _able_ to fight. Even you—in all of your opinionated glory—should be able to see that."

The headmaster sat back in contemplation. "I see the benefits, but I don't think that they should be trained. Not before they are older. These children can barely walk and talk. And how will they get wands before their magic has grown enough for their wands to choose them? Mister Ollivander doesn't sell wands to wizards under eleven because of the high chances of backfire when their magic matures."

"I'm sure Ollivander would be willing to make a few sacrifices for you, Albus," Minerva said slowly. "It isn't as if he would have much business if your first years didn't go in each year."

They thought about this for a few moments.

Finally Albus sighed again. "Fine, then they shall be trained. But only when they are a bit older, say, six, perhaps, if magic has manifested itself enough to be used by then. I believe this is a mistake, but it seems that the majority is against me. And, if I know Remus, he'd go along with the training anyway if I didn't allow it."

Remus looked mildly sheepish. "He deserves a chance, Albus. I would've tried to give it to him whether you authorized it or not. But it'll be much more fruitful if you help."

"Very well." Dumbledore checked the time and finished the last few drops of his lemonade. "I ought to get back to Hogwarts. You, too, Minerva."

The Deputy Headmistress set down her empty teacup and rose. "Alright. We've work to do at the school. Good bye, Remus, Alice, Frank."

The Longbottoms stood. "Yes, we should leave as well. Thank you, Remus, and good luck with Harry." A house elf came down with Neville in its arms and handed him to Alice. "Remember to drop by whenever, Albus, if you need to use our library. It's always open to you," said Frank.

Albus nodded his thanks and said farewell to Remus before leading Minerva and the Longbottoms out of the door.

Remus blew out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding and placed his head in his hands. After a few minutes of reflection, he headed upstairs to tend to his son.

And then it hit him. Like wind against a straw-made house, the realization came.

He had a _son_. A _son_!


	2. Meet the Press

**Harry Potter _and the _Fulfilling _of_ Destiny**, Chapter 2: Meet the Press

**Summary: **How different would things be if Remus Lupin intercepted Dumbledore before Harry was banished to Privet Drive? If Harry grew up in the wizarding society instead, but no one knew that he had survived the Killing Curse? If he had lived as—drumroll, please—a _normal boy_???

**Disclaimer: **See Chapter 1's. Basically, I still don't own the HPU.

**Thanks to:** _Alligator355_, _Tabitha78_, _Marine Aquastar_,_ Kanikan_, _YamiRose__: DarkElementalGoddess_,_ ssecca01_, _maya100_, & _High Serpent King_ for reviewing!

**Note: ** I fixed all the errors in the first chapter. Thanks all of you for sending them, too! I probably wouldn't have known most of them. I have a few things I must point out. (1). Luna's mother died at birth in my universe. So those of you who told me that Luna's mother doesn't die until Luna's hit age 9, and Luna sees it, I know. But I needed it this way for soon-to-be circumstances. (2). Sorry about completely forgetting Percy in the Weasley family… and adding the Weasleys to the Order. They weren't at this time in canon, but I need them to be. (3). I figure that the Longbottoms were attacked after Voldemort fell, because Bellatrix went after them and not Voldemort himself. At least I think it was she.

Anyways, I had a beta reader for this chapter, so if there are any leftover mistakes, I'm going to pass over the blame. I'm like that. But if there does happen to be errors, inform me, please.

And that's that. On to Chapter 2!

Cheers,

S.A.M.

lllllllllllllllllll

Tragedies never stop publicity hounds. Especially not ones that have already sold their souls for interviews with the latest trend. So, obviously, deaths always make it to the papers, and no one stops the reporters from writing what they want, be it bad or good. And, as typical of human nature, no one complains until it's their turn to be under the public eye, scrutinized because of various lies or half-truths, when they finally admit that maybe—just _maybe_—they should have been more sympathetic, because then they'd have support to stand up against the press with.

But of course, that wouldn't happen. It's not the nature of the beast. One stands alone, unless he made smart choices when others were in trouble. Which is unusual.

"It should be illegal to insult the dead," said Remus as he threw the newspaper onto the dining room table.

"Agreed," Albus responded, picking up the paper and opening it, "but what does it say that is so horrible?"

"Read it and find out for yourself," Remus said harshly, practically snarling. "What did Lily and James ever do to deserve _that_?" He assisted Harry as the boy scribbled on a piece of parchment with a Muggle creation—a '_crayon_', Remus thought it was called, a stick of hardened green wax. "They even badmouthed you, Albus. Called James an 'anti-Ministry' supporter and you his informant, even if you've both publicly denounced You-Know-Who practically daily for the past five years. Said you were 'incapable of protecting them' from the 'Dark Lord'. Hah! As if any of _them_ could do any better. Then called Lily an incompetent mother! And said she couldn't protect her son! But _THEY_ didn't see how hard she fought! Hypocrites!"

Albus finished reading the paper as Remus continued his rant. "They will say what they will, Remus. No one believes them anyway. Not usually."

"They should be sentenced to Azkaban."

"You didn't say that last time the reporters created interesting stories to catch public attention by denouncing the deceased and their families." Albus sipped a cup of coffee delicately. "Even when Sylvia Lovegood died giving birth. They created quite an intricately detailed story for that, even when it's been proved that it was simply an unanticipated birth complication."

Harry switched to a brown crayon.

Remus scowled. "Yes, but still! Shouldn't I be able to protest, or—or _something_?"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "There isn't much you can do. Well, you could have Mister Lovegood place an article in the Quibbler that tells the truth and lists the good things the Potters have done."

"Perhaps I will, then."

Harry switched to a blue crayon.

"How are we ever going to explain all of this to him?" asked Remus contemplatively, looking at Harry.

Albus sighed. "Excellent question. I believe that is your choice."

"If the world thinks that he's my son, he'll have to call me 'dad' or something…" Remus bit his lip. "How can I make him do that?"

Harry switched to a red crayon, oblivious to the conversation about him.

"I suppose you'll just have to see," said Albus, watching Harry switch back to the green crayon, make a few last scribbles, and push the parchment over to Remus.

Remus looked at it, back at Harry, then back at the paper. He made a few noncommittal sounds in the back of his throat and handed the paper to Albus.

The Headmaster looked at it and laughed. "It's a portrait, Remus. His portrayal of you is quite good, I think…." He turned the paper to look at it from a different angle. "Is this brown scribble part of your hair or your eye?"

Remus took it from him. "Which brown scribble?" he asked, turning the paper as well. "It can't be my eye, it's on my _chin_… wait… _is_ that my chin?"

Albus laughed again.

Remus turned the paper again. "No… do I have three eyes?" he asked Harry.

The boy shook his head. Remus set the paper in front of him and Harry began to point things out.

"Your hair," he said, pointing to a brown glob near the top that seemed to droop down the sides of his face. "Your ears," he said, pointing to two peach-colored circles half-hidden in the hair. "Your eyes." Harry pointed to two brown circles that were too far down the circle labeled 'the head' and appeared to have something colored red in between them that could be vaguely labeled 'a nose'.

"Then _what_ is _that_ brown spot right there?" asked Remus, putting his finger to something that was in the area that appeared to be the right cheek.

Harry turned to look at it. "Oops," he said eventually. "That one isn't there."

Remus furrowed his eyebrows.

"He means that it _shouldn't_ be there, I think, Remus," Albus explained.

A knock sounded on the door.

Handing the picture back to Harry, Remus stood to answer it.

Seconds later a panting, panic-stricken Minerva McGonagall followed Remus back into the dining room.

"Albus!" she exclaimed. "Thank Merlin you're here. The Longbottoms have been attacked."

The old man stood up quite suddenly, scaring the child next to him. "At their home?" he asked, moving towards the door.

Minerva nodded, breathing heavily from what must have been the run from the doors of Hogwarts past the anti-apparition wards.

"_How_?" Albus asked himself quietly. Then to the others, "Was it Voldemort?"

She cringed almost unnoticeably and shook her head. "Death Eaters. _Bellatrix__ Lestrange._"

Remus looked at her sharply.

"No time to lose," Albus said, summoning his winter cloak from the entrance hall and turning to Remus. "Stay here with Harry. I'll be back once I've assessed the situation." Then he dragged Minerva out the front door, and they apparated away.

Both appeared miles away in front of a half-collapsed house. Aurors in gleaming white robes were crawling all over the place. Three noticed the two professors and headed over.

"Albus," said Moody solemnly. "Alice and Frank have been rushed to St. Mungo's for treatment. There is no word as of yet." He shook his head sadly, his magical eyeball spinning backwards to watch an Auror trip over a stray arm left on the lawn by a splinched Death Eater that had made the mistake of apparating straight onto the heavily warded Longbottom property.

"Where is Neville?" asked Albus.

"Auror Sueli has taken him back to the Ministry for his grandmother to pick him up. Thankfully he wasn't harmed; Bellatrix Lestrange decided to take her time on his parents. My guess is she underestimated how carefully the Ministry was watching this house," responded Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"I didn't know the Ministry _was_ watching this house," grumbled Minerva.

"A mysterious informant called in a hint that they might be attacked," explained Moody, the Head of the Auror Department. "And the Ministry wanted to at least _try_ to stay on top of the attacks."

Minerva sneaked a suspicious look at the old man next to her as they began to move across the yard to the destroyed house.

"What exactly happened?" asked Albus.

"Bellatrix Lestrange managed to breach the wards somehow. I believe it has to do with a lapse of judgement at the Ministry. Instead of completely protecting the Longbottoms, the wards were set to only deny access to people with ill will towards them. Therefore, Bellatrix was able to get through."

"How?" asked Minerva.

Moody shrugged, limping next to them and observing everything with his magical eyeball. "Our guess is that she didn't have ill will. Insane people don't have to carry emotions such as hate, and when they do, some sort of glitch doesn't set off the detectors. The Ministry has researchers looking to fix it, but that's off the topic. It was a short time later when the Death Eaters began to set them off. I think that when she herself didn't set them off, she told the Death Eaters that it was safe to come with a signal of some sort, but they set off the alarm even when she didn't."

"Have you Bellatrix in custody?" asked Albus.

Moody nodded. "She's pending trial with the Wizengamot. Though they may choose to just send her straight to Azkaban."

Albus nodded and surveyed the scene around him. There were random scorch marks in the green grass where spells had hit because of misses or deflections. A few body parts were scattered around from Death Eaters splinching as they apparated through the wards. The house, as aforementioned, was half-destroyed, with scorch holes in the outer walls that one could see overturned and trashed furniture through on one side of the house, while on the other side the outer walls seemed to be missing altogether.

"Devastation," he said. "Did you catch any _other_ Death Eaters?"

Moody shook his head. "Other than the ones that lost body parts, no. Most were smart enough to apparate out-of-bounds. When the wards were first breached the alert went up to the Ministry, but when we started apparating in, the few that didn't disapparate immediately shot spells at us." He waved his arm at the house. "Explains this," he said. "Anyway, once they disabled a few of the Aurors the rest of the Death Eaters disapparated also. Fortunately Lestrange was in one of the more central rooms and didn't know what was happening outside. We were able to capture her."

Albus let out a long stream of air through his mouth. "We should hold an Order meeting. They need to know these things."

Trave Jacklynn, the other Auror that had come over, shook his head. "Not yet. No one at the Ministry will be able to get away. Crouch has everyone on strict duty because of the citizen attacks. People are even being paid extra for doing jobs of people who are unable to do them themselves at the moment. Merlin, there are even seventh year Hogwarts students researching while the adults fulfill other—more difficult—duties that are even more necessary."

"Who gave them authorization to leave the school?" asked Albus.

"The Ministry asked for volunteers and I arranged for those eligible to go," said Minerva.

Albus nodded almost imperceptibly. "Good, good…." He looked over all the Aurors scouring the area. "Is it possible to see Frank and Alice or are visitors not welcome yet?"

Moody answered, "The nurses aren't letting anyone see them, last I heard."

The signature '_crack!_' of apparition sounded from outside the wards' boundaries, causing many Aurors to whip out their wands in a flash pointed at the new arrival. One wave of his hand relieved their fears, however, and the wands were placed back in their wand holsters (Moody wouldn't allow his Aurors to carry a wand without a holster—he said that carrying wands in pockets was too dangerous and could blow off various body parts accidentally).

The brown-haired wizard made his way over. "Minister Crouch sent me to report the condition of the scene and the Longbottoms," Hevrin Boulin explained.

Moody, in his brilliantly white Auror's robes, brought Hevrin up to date. Hevrin asked all the right questions while a Dict-o-Quill wrote everything down on a piece of parchment.

"Hmm. An Order meeting is—well—it's in order, don't you think?" Boulin asked.

"Yes, of course, but we have so many Ministry officials that are tied up at the moment, that I think it would be better to wait until the hustle dies down," Albus stated, watching a wizard cast levitation spells on the scattered body parts, placing them all in a wheelbarrow.

"Why a wheelbarrow?" asked Minerva.

"It's a portkey," explained Albus, still watching them. "A time-activated one. That way the limbs are easily transferred from here to the Ministry. Quite ingenious, I believe."

Then a few researchers apparated into the area with cameras and briefcases. They trudged up to the house officially as the Aurors continued to scour the scene.

Albus took a pocket watch out of his robes and checked the time. "I should bring Remus the news." He placed the watch back in the folds of his dark navy robes and turned to Minerva. "Thank you for retrieving me, Minerva."

She nodded.

"Alastor, Kingsley, Hevrin, Trave," he nodded to each before turning to walk to the edge of the anti-apparition wards. Minerva said her own good-byes and followed so she could apparate back to Hogwarts.

With a '_crack!_' Albus appeared back at 47 Shoreside Way. He strode through the door without knocking and into the dining room, where he presumed Harry and Remus still were. They weren't, but he could hear laughing from down the hall. Albus followed the sound into the lounge room where Harry was standing on a lounge chair, bouncing up and down, and Remus was sitting on the floor in front of the chair.

Albus frowned. "Are you quite sure that that is safe?"

Remus nodded. "Last time he almost fell he _caught_ himself." He put emphasis on the word to get the point across.

"…Caught himself how…?"

"Magically. It was strange," said Remus, watching Harry intently.

Harry plopped down onto his rear and sat watching the conversation. He grinned impishly. "I scared Remus," he said happily.

Albus raised a white eyebrow. "What _exactly_ did he do?"

With a burst of flame over Albus's head, Fawkes the phoenix appeared to land on the old man's shoulder. None seeing this as a rare occasion, they continued the conversation.

"I don't know. Ask him." Remus scooted back across the rug and lifted into a different chair.

Dumbledore picked Harry up and sat down in the chair, sitting Harry on his lap instead. "Okay, Harry," he said, "how did you scare Remus?"

Harry grinned again, seemingly very proud of himself. "I was jumpin', and then I was falling, but I didn't want to fall, so I stopped, but Remus looked scared, anyways," Harry stated dutifully.

"Hmm. Do you know _how_ you stopped?"

Harry looked confused. "But I just _did_."

Albus looked at Remus. "Was anything visible?"

"White smoke," said Remus.

"…White smoke…? You're going to have to be more specific than that."

Remus took a deep breath and seemed to ponder the request. "It was… like white smoke righted him. He was falling, so I reached to catch him, but he never fell. It was as if something else had caught him and set him back upright. White smoke."

Albus was frowning. "Harry," he said slowly. "What did it _feel_ like when you stopped falling? Was there anything strange? Anything that you remember suddenly _changing_?"

Harry looked puzzled again. "Uh… I remember warm."

"So you got warmer when you stopped falling?"

The boy nodded uncertainly.

"Quite interesting," said Albus. He looked down at Harry.

Harry's attention was on Dumbledore's shoulder. He had turned around in seat while talking to Albus and was now looking at Fawkes from his perch on the old man's knee. "Bird," he said, reaching out.

Fawkes jumped down to Dumbledore's other knee and let Harry touch his feathers. Then Harry stopped and seemed to stare at Fawkes intently, strangely. Fawkes held his gaze for a few seconds before returning to Albus's shoulder.

"Probably nothing," Albus said. "Every witch and wizard has instances of accidental wandless magic. It's how we know to send them Hogwarts letters."

"I suppose so. I did such things as well, I remember."

"Exactly. But there is other news I wished to share with you. As Minerva said, the Longbottoms have been attacked."

"How are they?"

"Alice and Frank are at St. Mungo's. Neville is in the custody of his grandmother until his parents can take him back."

"Do you know what's happened to them?"

Albus shook his head. "All I was told was that they brought to St. Mungo's. I have no idea what sort of injuries they've sustained."

Remus frowned. "How does their house look?"

Albus let out a stream of air and leaned back in the chair, Harry still on his lap. "Not good. It'll take much rebuilding to get it back to the way it was before." He set Harry on his feet and pushed him gently towards Remus, who leaned over and opened his arms. Harry took the few shaky steps over to the other chair, into Remus's open arms.

Remus picked Harry up and set him on his lap. "When are you calling the Order, then?"

"When the Ministry calms down. Many of our Order members are tied up at work because of everything that's been happening. There seems to be a lot going on."

There was a knock on the door. "I'll get it," Remus said, lifting Harry and handing him back to Albus.

Remus opened the door to find Arthur Weasley. "Hello, Arthur."

Arthur nodded to him. "Nice to see you, Remus. But is Albus here? Hevrin and Alastor told me to find him."

"He's back here," said Remus, leading Arthur into the lounge room and taking Harry back.

"Ah, Arthur, good to see you," said Albus. "I'm guessing there's a business reason you're here?"

Arthur nodded again. "Hevrin Boulin said to inform you that Crouch isn't letting him off until midnight at the earliest. He has to supervise all the research and crime reconstruction that they're doing. And Moody said that he'd look for you in a few hours, as soon as the Aurors have everything under control."

"Good, good. And you? Are you off work now?"

"Yes. They don't have much to do for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts branch."

"Then sit down, have a drink."

Arthur sat in one of the empty armchairs. A house elf popped into the room.

"Can Silphie serve you, sirs?"

"Oooh, yes, a lemonade, for me, Silphie," said Albus.

"Tea for me," Remus said, bouncing Harry on his knee.

"Just a glass of water, actually," said Arthur.

Silphie bowed, her (it seemed to be a she) face lowering to inches from the floor. She then popped back into the room, holding a tray with a glass of water, a cup of tea, and a tall glass of lemonade. She handed the drinks to their respective owners and popped back out of the room.

Arthur cleared his throat. "So… what were we talking about?"

"We were discussing Harry before you came; I suppose that's a safe topic," said Remus.

Arthur nodded. "Ah, yes, yes, Harry. How is he doing?"

"Very well," Remus stated, setting Harry on his feet again. Harry stumbled over to Albus, who caught him.

"How about the twins?" said Albus. "What are they up to, now?"

Arthur laughed. "They're driving Molly _insane_. They're pranksters already. And with Ron needing so much attention, and her new pregnancy—"

"W-what!" Remus, who had been drinking, sputtered out, choking on his tea. "Again?"

Arthur nodded. "Number seven."

Remus was shaking his head, but Albus was chuckling. "I suspected she was carrying again," he said.

Remus finally got a hold of himself and said, "What are you two going for, ten children?"

"Nah, nah, of course not." Arthur took a long drink from his glass. "Just until we get a daughter," he added.

"What's wrong with sons?" asked Remus.

Arthur shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing's _wrong_ with sons. Molly just wants a daughter. We love our sons to death."

"They're good boys," said Albus. "Most of the time."

"Yea," Arthur agreed. "And so different, too. Charlie's one of those brave types, but Percy's afraid of his shadow when he thinks it's threatening him. But Percy's a perfectionist also; he'll probably be the scholar in the family. Bill's big on Quidditch, and, judging from Ron's reaction to watching the games, he will be too. But Fred and George…." Arthur shook his head. "They're unbelievable."

The other two laughed.

They were interrupted by the signature '_pop!_'of a house elf entering the room. "Silphie's terribly sorry to interrupt," she said, "but there's a Master Sirius Black outside looking for the house."

All three of them were on their feet in a second. Albus handed Harry to Silphie and lead the others to the front door. "He wouldn't have told the house elf who he was if he meant to harm us," said the Headmaster.

"He'll either beg for forgiveness or say he didn't do it," growled Remus.

"Maybe so," said Albus, "but we ought to hear him out."

"I don't want to _hear out_ the bastard, I want revenge. It's his _fault_ Lily and James are dead," Remus argued as they made their way out the door.

"You've been friends for _years_," Arthur said. "Maybe he does have a legitimate excuse."

"_No_. He said he'd hold the secret to the death before allowing Voldemort to get the address at Godric's Hollow."

"Did you actually _see_ the Fidelius charm placed on him?" asked Albus.

"Well—well, no, but—"

"Then maybe there is a legitimate excuse," Albus stated, with a hint of finality.

The three of them were outside now, looking around, wands drawn.

"Disillusionment," muttered the Headmaster. "Sirius!" he announced loudly, "show yourself!"

A black-haired man with a panicked look on his face flickered into visibility. He noticed all three wands and threw his own to the ground. "Look!" he called gruffly, "I'm unarmed! Don't hurt me, I can explain!"

"You'd better," snarled Remus angrily.

Sirius looked a bit hurt. "You actually think that I did it, Remus? Come _on_! I would never do that to them; they were my best friends!"

"What do you want me to believe? You were their Secret-Keeper, and now they're dead! _You did_ do that to them!"

Sirius shook his head vigorously. "But I _wasn't_ the Secret-Keeper! At the last minute we switched to _Pettigrew_ because we thought he'd be suspected the least. What a _mistake_ that was. I didn't think he was a _Death Eater_. None of us did."

"Peter?" asked Remus incredulously, his wand arm lowering slowly. Suddenly it snapped back up. "I don't believe you."

Sirius looked crestfallen. "I would _never_ do that to Prongs and Lily. _You_ of all people should know that."

Remus was frowning, contemplating this. "Prove it was Peter, then."

"I don't think I can. We made sure no one could. None of us suspected that Pettigrew would betray them. But I _promise_ it wasn't me."

Arthur cleared his throat. "I may know how to prove it," he said slowly.

Everyone turned to look at him. "Well?" Remus asked.

Arthur shuffled his feet. "The Fidelius is still in place, right? And none of us should be able to get past it."

"I can," said Albus. "Lily and James gave me a paper with the address. I figured that Sirius had written it. It looked like his handwriting."

Sirius nodded enthusiastically. "They charmed it that way. But Peter's the one that wrote it."

Remus furrowed his eyebrows. "I can get in as well."

"But _I _can't," said Arthur. "So if Sirius here was the Secret-Keeper, and he told me, than I should be able to. But if he _isn't_ the Secret-Keeper, than this is the way to prove it."

They thought about this. "You're right," Albus said finally. "This would be the way."

"So tell me the address," Arthur demanded of Sirius.

Sirius said clearly: "Lily and James Potter lived at Godric's Hollow."

"Shouldn't you go into more detail that that?" questioned Arthur.

Remus shook his head, as did Sirius. Remus said, "Godric's Hollow is a secluded area, where only Lily and James lived. Surrounded by woods. Nice place, really. They named it themselves, after Godric Gryffindor for—ah—personal reasons."

Sirius nodded.

"Well, then," said Arthur, "let's put it to the test."

"I can't apparate unless you allow me to use my wand," pointed out Sirius.

Albus walked a few feet away and picked up a nearby rock, then picked up Sirius's wand and slipped it into his robes. With his own wand, he said "**Portus**_ Godric's Hollow_. A portkey will do it." He held the rather large rock out for everyone to touch.

The rock activated as soon as all were touching it, and each of them felt a jerk at their navel as the portkey brought them to Godric's Hollow. When the scenery cleared and their feet hit the ground, they dropped the rock.

Albus, Remus, and Sirius turned to look at the house, a tall, stone building with green shutters on the arched windows, matching the surrounding forest. The house looked dreary and dark and empty.

"Has the Ministry gotten to it, yet?" asked Remus.

Albus nodded. "I had extra sheets of parchment with the address, just in case. They were distributed to the crime-control Aurors and others who needed it. Only the Secret-Keeper can deactivate the Fidelius."

"So, Arthur," said Sirius, "can you see the house?"

Arthur looked around. "Uh… no."

"See!" Sirius said enthusiastically. "I'm _not_ the Secret-Keeper!"

Albus nodded solemnly. "I suppose it's true then," he said, slipping Sirius's wand out of his robe pocket.

Sirius took it graciously and shuffled his feet. "There's another problem…."

The others frowned. "What is it?" asked Remus suspiciously.

"Well…"

Fawkes, who had previously stayed with Harry, appeared with a burst of flames above Albus's head. He came to rest on Albus's shoulder.

Sirius braced himself. "I've been looking for Peter, to—ah—confront him. And I found him, today, you know, ah—in the city. London. And there was a bit of a—er—explosion when I found him. Some Muggles got hurt—I don't know, maybe ten—and Pettigrew was gone when the smoke cleared."

"What did you do to him?" asked Arthur.

"I didn't do anything," said Sirius defensively. "He made the explosion himself. But I doubt that's what it looked like."

"That little rat," Remus said quietly.

Sirius nodded. "I think that's how he escaped. My wand was out, as was his, but his half of the street exploded, so it'll look to bystanders like I did it, not him. The explosion sent a bunch of us flying backwards. I got out of there before the Ministry arrived, thankfully."

"You think he changed?"

Sirius nodded again. "He wouldn't have committed suicide like that. He'd have had to be _sure_ that he would get out of there alive. He must've changed."

Albus was frowning. "So we have a fugitive rat running around the city?"

Remus and Sirius both looked sharply at him. "You knew?" asked Remus.

"Of course I knew," responded Albus. "But, seriously, now, I'm going to need details."

"I suggest going to the Ministry. I told you all I know about it," said Sirius.

Taking a folded paper out of his pocket and handing it to Remus, Albus nodded sharply and disapparated.

"Mm," said Arthur. "I probably ought to go back to the Burrow, then. Molly'll be wanting a full report. I'll be seeing you, Remus, Sirius." He took out his own wand and disapparated.

Then Remus took the time to open the folded piece of paper. "Hmm," he said, reading it. "I think this is for you." He handed the paper to Sirius.

Sirius read it as well. "Oh," he said. "So I can _see_ your house. I meant to ask you actually… since when are you under Fidelius?"

"Oh, good question," Remus answered, looking back over his shoulder at the empty house behind him. "Since I became the official guardian of Harry Potter." He then disapparated.

Sirius was staring at the spot where Remus had been standing, eyes wide. "What!" He quickly took out his wand and disapparated as well. With a '_crack!_', he reappeared in front of the Lupin House. Remus was already disappearing through the front door of the now-visible house, and Sirius sprinted to the door to catch up.

"Remus! Remus, wait!" He slid in through the door, face-to-face with an amused-looking Remus. "What about Harry? I thought he was dead!"

"That's what people are _supposed_ to think," Remus said, leading the other man down a hallway to the lounge room.

A house elf was playing with Harry. "Oh!" she said, jumping to her feet from where she had been laying next to the boy, helping him color, "Silphie did not know that Masters were back from their trip."

"It's quite alright, Silphie," Remus said. "What were you two coloring?"

Harry held up the book they were scribbling in. It had drawings in it, outlined in dark black, so that whoever was using it knew where one color was to end and another to begin. On one page was a picture of a wizard casting a spell on a goblet of wine, and on the page next to it was a picture of a cat sitting on a bench with a wizard in front of a large fountain. The picture of the cat and the wizard was much more expertly colored in than the one with the spell-casting wizard. Harry had been coloring the spell-casting one.

"That's interesting," said Remus, looking at the book. "Have we always had one of those?"

Silphie shook her head. "No, no, sir, Silphie made it herself for Master Harry. Master Harry likes to color with these waxy things." She held up a crayon tentatively. "Muggles use them as children, too. Silphie's mother told Silphie that a long time ago."

Sirius was too busy staring at Harry to listen to what the house elf was saying. "Harry!" he said finally. He then walked over and scooped up the infant in his arms. "You're alive!"

"'Course, Uncle Sirius," said Harry. "I'm s'posed to be."

Sirius laughed a little and held Harry close to him. "Yes, that you are."

Then Albus came striding into the room, looking troubled. "We have a problem," he announced. "You're a wanted man, Sirius."

llllllllllllllllllll

Back at the Ministry things were hectic, to say the least. Moody was having trouble _before_ the explosion in London, but _after_, whoa, that was a whole other story. Aurors were running around the department, trying to see who was working where, where they were supposed to be, and what they were supposed to be doing there.

Eventually he got fed up.

"**ENOUGH**!" he yelled, standing up. "Shacklebolt!"

The startled young man jumped to attention. "Yessir?"

"Take over the hunt for Black, assign your own team. Sueli! Take over M-M-M, grab a few assistants. And Jacklynn! Take over the Longbottom case, assign your own team. Everyone else, ask _those_ three where you're supposed to be!"

The three leaders he'd assigned exchanged quick, panicked looks before they were overrun with other Aurors trying to figure out what they were supposed to be doing.

Sarah Sueli, newly in charge of Muggle-Memory-Modifications, grabbed about six other Aurors—mainly novices for such a basic job—and took the elevator to the entrance level of the Ministry of Magic.

"What's going on, Sarah? The entire division's blown to hell!" said Heather Brooklynn, an Auror freshly out of training, still wearing the '_NOVICE: LEVEL 1_' badge on the sleeve of her gleaming white Auror robes.

"Muggle eyewitnesses to magical activity in the middle of London. Need an M-M-M squad to finish the dirty work after the investigators have gotten their stories—we've got to work fast before the press comes in and hounds them."

They reached the ground level of London quickly enough, though it was somewhat cramped in the phone booth, even with the enlargements the Ministry put on it to fit all the people that it needed to.

"Back here, we need to apparate," Sarah said, pulling on a few robe sleeves to bring the Aurors over.

"Into the middle of Muggle territory?" Levi Johnson asked, brandishing his wand.

"Well we're going to obliviate them anyway!" Sarah said, exasperated already.

The other Aurors saw the reasoning in this and disapparated, appearing on the other side of London, in the midst of a large crowd, a mixture of wizards and Muggles.

A man in white robes ran over when they all appeared. "What are you taking over?" he demanded.

She looked at his sleeve ('_INTERMEDIATE: LEVEL 3_') and raised her eyebrows. "See that badge there?" she asked, raising her left index finger to her own right sleeve.

He furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yes, you understand, don't you? _I'm _the one giving orders here."

The man straightened up and came to attention. "Yes, ma'am. He then looked over his shoulder at the scene. "Right there's where the explosion happened, see the char marks? Yea. And over there—" he pointed to a group of Muggles surrounded by witches and wizards in bright white robes "—is where they're trying to keep a handle on the eyewitnesses. Most of 'em have already been interrogated—see, look? they're separating 'em—and are just waiting for M-M-M."

She nodded, glancing around. "Good, good—but who're the rest of these people? Why're there so many people trying to cross the—is that tape?"

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am. The Muggle police are trying to take over it, too. This is how they do it—with tape. Actually, I think it's just like big plastic ribbon, but still. Look, the public's trying to get in, that's the problem. And the press. From _both_ worlds." He shook his head. "It's a royal mess."

"The Muggle police are cooperative with us, right?"

He shrugged. "They've been talked to, but I think they think we're loony. See the strange looks? Yep. The Muggles've been asking why the people who are handling it are wearing dresses." He laughed. "Dresses! Can you imagine?" He was shaking his head again. "I've got to get back to my superior. Good luck, ma'am."

She nodded to him and he walked off. Then she turned to the six Aurors behind her who were also surveying the scene. "Go over there to where they have the Muggle eyewitnesses. Take care of them. I'm going to see how much the press has seen, and reason with the local law enforcers." They all nodded and trudged across the street to where the Muggles were constrained.

Sarah walked the short distance to where the police were making sure no one passed the yellow '**_CAUTION!_**' tape. "Sir?" she asked one that seemed to be overlooking the scene.

He turned around, looking angry. His face just got redder as he noticed her wardrobe. "Oh, so you're one of _them_." He had dark brown eyes that were scrutinizing her accusingly, and black, slick-backed hair that came together in a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He noticed the patch on her right arm that read '_ADVANCED EXPERT: LEVEL 5_'. "A high rank, too, it seems," he sneered.

She stiffened noticeably. "I'm sorry, _sir_, but we're _trying_ to cooperate with you here. It would actually be much simpler for us if you _weren't_ here, really, but—"

"Likewise, be certain," said an authoritative feminine voice from behind her.

Sarah whipped around and came face-to-face with an uniformed woman with a tight bun in her brown hair and cold, piercing blue eyes.

"Come with me," the woman said icily. Then she turned to leave.

Sarah followed. The woman led her back into the taped-off area to where no one would overhear. "What can I do for you?" Sarah asked when they stopped.

"Listen. I know all about your world," the strange woman responded coldly, narrowing her eyes. "I also know what happened here today, if you'd like to know that. _But_—I want your kind out of here. We can't have _witches_ running through our city. The citizens get suspicious. If you _have_ to come onto our territory, wear—" the woman sneered at the white Auror robes Sarah was wearing "—_normal_ clothing." She straightened up and turned to look at the where the other Aurors had secluded the Muggles and begun the memory-modifications. "Now," she said, beginning to walk towards them, clearly expecting Sarah to follow, "once your done _messing_ with the minds of innocent people, I want you to order all of your _people_ to get out of my city."

Sarah cleared her throat and did her best impression of Severus Snape. "Ma'am, I would like nothing better than to get out of this _city_. But—as you would know, if you really _did_ know what happened here today—this involves us. This is _our_ investigation. And you have no right to order us out of it. To be frank, _you_ shouldn't even be in it, despite where the crime occurred. We appreciate the—little—help you're performing by keeping the public and the press away from the scene, but we _do_ have a specific way of going about our business. Besides, even _I_ don't have the right to _order_ all of these people away from here. You see, _our_ system is very organized. We have specific levels ordained for specific tasks. I—" Sarah pointed to the badge on her right arm "—am a Level 5. That means that I supervise specific squads, but I _don't_ supervise them all. I'm sure that—if you bothered to look—you would find other Level 5s around here, supervising their _own_ squads. And we aren't leaving until we're done." She smiled sweetly at the woman as they reached the memory-modification area. "But right now, I need to supervise my squadron. You know, the M-M-M squad. They're the ones _messing with the minds of innocent people_."

Then an Auror, an '_ADVANCED BEGINNER: LEVEL 2_', always the masters of perfect timing, came up to Sarah, saying, "Excuse me, Auror Sueli, the eyewitnesses' memories have been modified. Are we supposed to modify the police force and Muggle press and public and such as well?"

"I don't think they know anything. They've been trying to push through the boundaries since this ruckus began, but no one's gotten through. Things would be _much_ more hectic if they did," Sarah responded.

"Actually," the uniformed woman spoke up suddenly. "I think some of them may have seen you freaks pop into existence a few times."

"I doubt it," Sarah said coldly, "since Aurors' robes have specific wards that distract attention away from the apparition of their wearers created especially for occasions like this."

The woman frowned. "Wards? That do _what_?"

"Just to satisfy your curiosity, they make it look like the wearer walked out of the shadows. Which is why we apparate to areas next to buildings, or in between them if we're lucky," replied Sarah dryly. "Otherwise the M-M-M division would have a lot more work."

The woman was still frowning sourly, but now looked mildly curious. "M-M-M division?"

"Muggle Memory Modification," Sarah clarified. "I thought you knew all about our _kind_?"

"Well, not abut the law enforcers. I only know what my brother told me about every time he came back from that bloody _school_," the officer said defensively.

Sarah shrugged and turned away, back to the young novice that was still waiting for a reply to his original question. "No," she said. "Don't go after the press or the public. The police officers will need modification, but not until after this is all taken care of. It's up to the _normal_ M-M-M squad to figure out what to tell them. I'm not good at thinking up the stories. Speaking of which—are they still dealing with the police at the Longbottom house?"

The Auror looked over her shoulder and shook his head. "They're here. Does that mean we're done?"

Sarah looked behind her at the Aurors in white robes with the '_M-M-M_' badges on their right arms, underneath the Auror ranking. The supervisor of that division made his way over quickly, leading the nine Aurors behind him authoritatively.

"Auror Sueli," he said in a low voice, nodding to her as he arrived. "I understand you've been filling in for me?"

"Auror Livingston," she greeted. "Yes, I have."

"What have you handled?" Ronald Livingston asked.

"Only the Muggle eyewitnesses. The public and the press don't need modification, and the police know a limited amount of information, but you may want to obliviate it. Is my squad done here?"

"We don't need you for M-M-M, but I don't know what other divisions could use help."

"We'll get back to the Ministry, then, and I'll talk to Moody."

Livingston, another Level 5, nodded his approval and walked past her to check on the Muggle eyewitnesses and talk to the other on-duty Aurors.

"Alright," Sarah said, turning back to the Auror in her squad, "round up the others. We're done here, so we're going back to the Ministry."

"Yes, ma'am," the Auror said, turning away to gather the others.

Sarah watched him go, then surveyed the scene one last time and sighed. Whatever explosion that Sirius Black had caused had blown up half the street, sent a large steel box full of public waste rolling down the street, and killed eleven Muggles.

llllllllllllllllllll

"**_WHAT_**!" Sirius Black fairly yelled, miles away. "Wanted! What for?"

Albus Dumbledore sat heavily in a nearby lounge char and responded, "For the murder of eleven Muggles and Peter Pettigrew."

"Murder! I didn't kill any of them!"

Remus took Harry from Sirius, afraid that Sirius would inadvertently hurt the boy in his rage.

"That's not what the evidence says," said Albus. "The Ministry said that all that was left of Peter was a finger, the explosion was so large."

"That clever little _rat_!" Sirius said, throwing his arms up into the air in exasperation. "Of _course_ the Ministry would think I killed him. You all thought that I killed Lily and James, too, and that's what he was counting on. _That little rat_."

"There's no way to prove them wrong, Sirius. Muggle eyewitnesses have relayed the stories to the Aurors' investigative division multiple times, and all their stories match up. If the Ministry finds you, you're going to Azkaban."

Sirius knees seemed to go out, and he sank into the nearest chair, placing his head in his hands, the soft black hair cascading down over his fingers. "Azkaban?" he whispered. "Oh, Merlin, I don't want to go to Azkaban."

"No one does," Remus agreed.

"I hate to encourage something like this, but I do believe you're innocent, so I must insist that you go into hiding."

"Hiding?"

Albus nodded. "My best suggestion would be to stay here in the form of the family dog. I'm sure you could manage."

Sirius looked up at him, and Albus managed a twinkle in return.

Remus set Harry back on the floor with the coloring book. Silphie, who had never left the room, lay down next to him to help him color again.

"You know, Albus," Remus said, watching them, "I could use a nanny for Harry."

"I rather think that Silphie's doing a fairly good job herself," replied the old man.

"I agree. But, I mean, I would need to get a job or something to make money to support the place, and, rather than leave him in the presence of house elves and a fugitive uncle, I should get him some sort of nanny, especially for—ah—certain times of the month. Someone that _knows_ something about children. Maybe someone who could tutor him as well."

Albus pondered this for a moment then smiled. "I know just the person, actually. She's an old friend of the family. She's even been talking to me about joining the Order, which is necessary considering she'd be working in Order Headquarters."

"Alright, Albus, then you give your high recommendations for this woman?"

"Indeed, I do," he responded. "Tomorrow will be her first meeting. I shall introduce you after then." He stood gingerly. "But now I must return to the school. The professors are expecting a full update." Albus nodded his farewells and left via the front door, apparating from just beyond the anti-apparition wards.

Sirius and Remus were left in the lounge room, looking sour. "Hiding," Sirius said eventually. "Looks like I'll be living here, then. You have guest rooms, don't you?"

Remus nodded. "Silphie?" he asked. "Watch Harry for a moment, please."

The house elf nodded enthusiastically before returning to her picture.

Remus led Sirius upstairs, to the third floor, where the bedrooms were. "Yours would be… here," he said, pushing open a door. "Then a live-in nanny, most likely, then there's Harry's room—right there—and mine across the hall."

"Good, good. Thank you. I'm going to take a nap before dinner comes. It's been a long day."

Remus nodded. "Understandable." Then he left Sirius, off to contemplate the new developments in the lounge room with Harry and Silphie.

llllllllllllllllllll

The Order of the Phoenix's call could be heard in the minds of each member the next night, when the Ministry had settled down and most of the things that needed to be done were.

"Well!" Albus announced, when all were seated, "there's quite a bit of news today. I'm assuming, because of the delay of this meeting, that you all know what has happened. If you do not, please tell me now."

No one spoke up. All had heard from a friend or a neighbor or the _Daily Prophet_.

Albus cleared his throat and performed a summoning spell. "**_Accio_**_Daily Prophet_!" A newspaper flew from a chair in the corner of the room to his outstretched hand. "I'm also assuming that you've all read this," he said, lifting the front page of the paper for all present to see.

The headlines screeched:

**SIRIUS BLACK: A TRAITOR, BLACK TO THE CORE**

A big, black, fluffy dog that was sitting next to Remus stiffened and growled lowly. None but Remus noticed, but the man laid a hand on the dog's head to silence him anyway.

Albus started again, "This, as you may or may not know, is mostly untrue. Recent information has been given to me that proves Sirius innocent. Well… of certain accusations, at least. We now know that Sirius was _not_ the Secret-Keeper for the Potters, but, rather, Peter Pettigrew was."

"You never said anything about our _spy_ seeing Pettigrew at any revels," Severus Snape said in a low voice.

"That's because he did not. I'm assuming that Voldemort was being very careful with this one spy. I suspect he proved very beneficial to the '_Dark Lord's_' cause, and this is how he's been thwarting us for so long. But I digress, now. The first major event that happened recently is, as you all know, the explosion in Muggle London."

"Exactly, Albus. How are you going to prove Black innocent of this one? All the evidence, all the eyewitness testimonies, it all points to Black. Whether it be for revenge of Lily and James, pure malicious intent towards Pettigrew, or whatever, he's guilty of this," said Moody. "My entire Auror division was working on that, from afternoon yesterday to afternoon today."

Albus shook his head. "Peter is an Animagus. He cut off his finger and transformed. Then he escaped. He made the explosion himself, knowing that he would be proclaimed dead and Sirius blamed for everything.

"He's not registered as an Animagus," Hevrin Boulin said slowly. "There's no way we could prove that he didn't kill those Muggles. Or Peter, for that matter. It'd be impossible."

Many of the others thought it over and nodded silently, while Albus just watched.

"You know," said Kingsley Shacklebolt eventually, "I'm in charge of the hunt for him. Should I be wary of where he is? If he is truly innocent, that is."

"Don't worry about that," Albus said. "I've placed him in hiding. He is perfectly safe. For the sake of your job, continue to search for him. I'm confident that you will not find him."

Shacklebolt shrugged and looked at Moody. Moody nodded his agreement.

"In other words," Albus continued, "nobody need search for him.

"Now—on to other topics. The Longbottoms…. Does anyone know how they are?"

Hevrin Boulin spoke up quickly, "The Minister got a full report from St. Mungo's. It's not looking good. Right now the mediwitches diagnosed temporary insanity—at the best. It's not looking good. Actually, they said that the chances are better for upgrading the diagnosis permanent insanity. Only time will tell."

Everyone looked at him, shocked.

"Why insanity?" asked a new face at the table, a woman with blonde curls and dark green eyes. "Would that be because of the Cruciatus?"

Katrina Howards, a mediwitch at St. Mungo's, nodded her head. "Long bouts of Cruciatus like what—I'm guessing—the Longbottoms endured can cause insanity, whether temporary or permanent. Those cases are rare, though. The Longbottoms came through the emergency ward—my ward—yesterday, both unconscious. I, personally, wasn't the one working on them, but nurses talk. It's bad. Like Alastor said, they're leaning towards permanent insanity. There are quite a few of us working on helping them, but nothing's helping, last I heard."

Albus nodded silently, thinking. "But there _is_ still a chance of recovery?"

Katrina looked skeptical. "Well—yes, but—really, now, Albus—what are the chances? When the mediwitches are '_leaning towards permanent insanity_', it means '_expect the worst_'! We _always_ tell people better than reality so that they don't lose _hope_. They _need_ hope to continue. So, here… we have to expect the worst."

Albus shook his head firmly. "Never expect the worst, no matter the chances."

A scattered few around the table nodded their agreement.

"Do we need to go into any more detail on these recent events?" asked Albus. "Because, as I believe many of you have noticed, we have a new member."

Everyone turned to the blonde woman with the strangely dark eyes.

"This is a friend of mine, Miss Holly Sophia Solon, who is freshly back from attending a university with the Muggles and has now joined our numbers."

Most everyone looked over and nodded greetings at her. She smiled back at them, somewhat shyly.

"I don't think there is anything else to say about the events of the past two days, so I'm going to breach another topic. What are we going to do about catching and convicting Death Eaters?"

"We don't know who to catch. You've told us time and time again: no one reveals themselves at the dark revels. They remain secret, even amongst themselves. Unless there's something you're not telling us," Moody said.

"This is why we must force them to come out now. Announce to the press that Voldemort has fallen."

"But, if there's a chance that he'll return, isn't that like giving them false hope? And, when he comes back, won't they be angry? Will they even believe us anyway?" asked Minerva.

"That's why we play with the words. A 'Voldemort has disappeared' along with the lack of his sightings might play well into our hands. Our strategizing until his return must be on what we will do to defeat his strengths before the return comes to pass," Albus said.

"Then we should be planning," announced Severus.

Albus nodded and conjured a piece of parchment. "Yes, we should, so… any other ideas?"

llllllllllllllllllll

"Remus?"

The questioned looked up from his dinner at the questioner.

"Yes, Harry?"

Harry frowned. "When's Mum and Dad coming back?"

A fleeting look of panic crossed over Remus's face. His mind reeled with ways to prolong the inevitable. "Well, Harry, you see, your mum and dad have—have gone on a very, very long—uh—trip."

"A… trip."

Remus nodded vigorously. "You'll be living with me now."

"A… trip," Harry repeated. "Then why was Mum screaming?"

_Oooh__, no, I don't want to talk about this!_ "Okay, Harry, try to understand this. Your mother and father aren't coming back. They're gone."

"On this… trip."

"Well—er—yes. You see, this trip is called '_death_.' It happens to everyone."

"So Mum and Dad are on death?"

"Well—ah—yes, I suppose."

Harry frowned and returned to his food, carrots and mashed potatoes.

He never breached the topic again.

**llllllllllllllllllll**** Three**** Years, Nine Months, Twenty-Eight Days Later llllllllllllllllllll**

"Albus," Remus said, looking over his dinner table.

The elder man looked up from where he had been reading a scroll. "Yes?"

"I think there may be something wrong with Harry." He glanced up at the clock on the wall. One hand had a picture of Harry on it, one a picture of Remus, one a picture of Holly, and one a picture of Sirius. Harry's hand was on 'In Bed', as was Holly's, and Sirius's hand was on 'At Hogwarts'. Remus's was on 'With Albus'.

"What makes you think that?" Albus said curiously, setting the scroll aside. Fawkes was upstairs, with Harry. The scarlet phoenix had taken a liking to the boy over the years.

"Ever since this afternoon he's been looking at people strangely."

Albus repeated him slowly, "'_Looking__ at people strangely_'?"

Remus nodded. "I don't know why, it just seems like every time he looks at someone he's peering. And earlier, when the room was full of people, he seemed to be observing everyone rather than socializing. It was just… I don't know… _odd_."

"Remus," Albus said gently. "Harry has been known to do very odd things. I wouldn't go so far as to say that something is wrong with him."

"But—Albus—it's his _birthday_. He's supposed to be outgoing and joyful. Instead, he seemed to be… quiet and a bit withdrawn. He's never like that. Well… not usually, at least."

"Then maybe you should ask him about it tomorrow Remus, after his class with Holly. He'll tell you if something is on his mind." Albus glanced at a different clock—one that actually told time—and stood swiftly. However feeble he had seemed a few years before was now hidden underneath vitality. Three and a half years of peace in the wizarding world were invigorating. "However, it is late—already midnight!—and I must be getting back to the school. Preparations and such, you understand."

"Of course, Albus. Good night."

Remus led the older man to the front door, where Albus stopped and said, "Let me know how your talk goes. And tell me if something really is wrong."

Remus nodded his consent as Albus walked past the anti-apparition wards of 47 Shoreside Way and disapparated.

Then the werewolf turned and walked upstairs to his own bedroom, sinking down into his bedside chair. Though the three years of peace had brought a thin blanket of comfort down over Europe's wizarding society, the Aurors were still overworked and underpaid. Remus, now an Expert in the Auror department, was one of the most skilled in employment, though he had yet to reach the next level: _Level 5: Advanced Expert_. Thinking back to the events of the day, he changed into suitable pajamas and slid into his warm, comfortable bed. He had to get up early the next morning for Auror duties, after all.

llllllllllllllllllll

"Harry!"

The boy with black hair heard the call and, picking up the book he had been previously immersed in, darted behind a bookshelf.

"Harry!" Holly called again, getting aggravated, "get out here, now! Come on, why don't you want class today? You've never done anything like this _before_!"

Feeling pity on the woman, Harry slipped out from behind the bookshelf to meet her.

"Harry!" she exclaimed. "What in the name of Merlin are you doing back there?"

"Hiding," he said, gliding past her to the plushy burgundy couch in the library. He set the book down on the coffee table in front of it. "I'm researching something, too busy for class."

Holly placed her hands on her hips. "What could be more important than class?"

"Look," Harry said, showing her the small, pocket-sized book. "Auras."

"Auras," she said slowly. "Harry, why are you researching auras?"

"Because," he answered defensively, "I'm interested in them." Harry then opened the book and began pointing at a diagram. "Look. Rings and rings around a person. And, here, it says that people can rarely see auras, that they're a real mystery."

"Didn't you know all of this already?"

"Well… yes, but, look, I wasn't paying as much attention then. This is really fascinating, though."

_Remus__ did say he was acting strangely yesterday. Maybe this is what he was talking about?_ Holly frowned. "You can keep researching after class. Just humor me until then. Ron and Neville and Luna are downstairs. All waiting for you."

Harry had the grace to look sheepish before picking the book up and following Holly downstairs to the first floor. Sure enough, Ron, Neville, and Luna were sitting on the couch, looking incredibly innocent.

Holly frowned at them. "What have you three done?"

"I have done nothing, Miss Holly," said Luna dreamily, and Harry knew she was telling the truth. Luna always looked innocent. It was what was special about her.

Holly turned on the other two boys. "Then what have you two done?"

Harry surveyed the scene silently. Then he said, pointing, "They broke the vase, I think."

All of the room's other occupants turned to look where he was pointing. Sure enough, the vase was broken. It was a light blue, teardrop-shaped vase with the opening at the narrow top. At the moment it was laying on the floor next to its stand in pieces.

Holly waved her wand at the mess and muttered, "**Reparo**." Then she turned on Luna. "How did they do it?"

Luna seemed to ponder the question for a moment before stating, "They ran into the table."

With a brief reproving at Ron and Neville, Holly led the four children into the backyard. They sat on benches at a wooden table under a thick sycamore tree.

"Alright," Holly said, taking a folded parchment from the pocket of her robes and opening it. "Harry and Ron, you two are up. Remember, careful. Technique first, not power."

Harry seemed a little distracted, but the two boys managed to pick up their wooden sticks and walk over to the ring.

"Fighting stance," Holly called, and the boys obeyed.

Raising their long, thick sticks towards each other so the shafts crossed, forming a wooden '**X**', they set their feet in defiant positions and stared one another in the eye.

"Ready? Go!"

Harry pulled away first and swung his stick downwards for the first blow. Ron blocked it by raising his stick horizontally and letting Harry's click off it. Then Ron went in with a jab that Harry blocked with a sideswipe. Harry sideswiped again, the other way, and managed to hit Ron in the side of his ribs. Ron winced almost imperceptibly and carried on. But still, point one for Harry.

The small battle continued like that for a few more minutes, Harry eventually winning with three points versus Ron's two. Remus had come home in the middle, sat and watched for a few seconds, then told something to Holly and returned to the house.

"You're all right, Harry, but you could be better. Much, actually. Unfortunately for you, Remus is home and wishes to speak with you, so your training's over for today. Now. Hurry, run!" Holly shooed him away with her hands and turned to her other students.

Harry turned and ran back into the house through the backdoor (which opened into the kitchens), then hurried into the lounge room, where he figured that his father would be. Sure enough, Remus Lupin sat on a armchair with his feet on the stool, holding conversation with Silphie the house elf. He looked up when Harry arrived.

"Oh. Hello, Harry," he stated.

Harry nodded and plopped down in the chair facing Remus. "Hello."

Silphie looked between the two and popped out of the room. She reappeared seconds later with lemonade for Harry and a Firewhiskey for Remus, quickly disappearing again after her job was done.

"You wished to talk to me?"

Remus nodded. "Harry, I see no reason not to be blunt, so I'm just going to ask: is something wrong?"

Harry shook his head. "Nothing's _wrong_, Dad."

Remus frowned. "Is there anything strange happening that you should tell me? Because if something odd is going on, you needn't hesitate."

"Well…" Harry said.

"Yes?" prompted Remus.

Harry fidgeted a bit, his hand raising to play nervously with his new necklace, the tiny little bottle with a phoenix tear enclosed. Holly had given it to him the day before, in honor of his fifth birthday.

"You can tell me, Harry."

"It's not that I don't know I can, I just don't think it's really a… um… concern."

Remus sat back in his chair. _Now we're getting somewhere_. "But there is something?"

Harry nodded, such a tiny move of his head that it almost went unnoticed.

"Then you should tell me. It doesn't matter about how important it is."

Harry fidgeted a little more before taking the book of auras out of the pocket of his wizarding robes. "Well…" he said, opening the book. "It says in here… that the rings I'm seeing around everybody are auras. But it says that seeing auras is a very strange, rare ability… so I don't know if I am or not."

Remus looked dumbfounded. _Seeing auras… The boy's seeing auras. Albus! Where is that old man when you need him?_

"Auras," Remus said aloud. "You're seeing auras?"


End file.
